


if there's a god in heaven (you can show me)

by breezered



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: F/F, but like clearly things have spiraled, college aged au, no disasters au, slow-burn, started out as an intramural basketball au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28414917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breezered/pseuds/breezered
Summary: No matter how pretty Shelby is, no part of her wants her in that way. Because she’s a bigot. And annoying. And the total antithesis of everything Toni believes in.--college au, of a sort.(title from "whatever you do" by brandi carlile)
Relationships: Shelby Goodkind/Toni Shalifoe
Comments: 305
Kudos: 1238





	1. i - iv

_i._

_It’s just a game, Toni_ , _okay?_

That’s what Martha had told her when Toni had volunteered to sub in for her intramural basketball team. Toni had wrapped her arms around Martha’s shoulders and squeezed her playfully, reassuring her that she wouldn’t toss any piss this time around.

Martha hadn’t looked like she’d believed her.

And now, as she's stretching her hamstrings on the side of the court, Toni thinks that Martha maybe shouldn’t have tried to pretend, and just told her to stay home.

The other girls that are here seem…well, they seem pretty useless.

There’s Fatin, a girl who’s even scrawnier than Toni, with nails that are so long, they look like they might pop the basketball, if she looks up from her phone long enough to get her hands on it.

Leah, who’s tall enough to maybe be useful, but she’s got her nose stuck in some shitty looking book and refuses to make eye contact with anyone.

There are the sisters, Nora and Rachel. Rachel’s apparently some bigshot athlete, but Toni thinks she might be sick, an unhealthy pallor clinging to her skin. Nora looks uncomfortable in her body, like she never got it to work properly for her.

Dot looks like she can handle herself, but the way she’s shoving Takis into her mouth five minutes before the game’s supposed to start is _not_ encouraging.

“Jesus, Marty,” Toni pulls her arm across her body, stretching out her shoulder, “this is your team?” She blows out a low whistle.

“We don’t play to win,” Martha says, “we just like to have fun.”

“Lame.”

“Toni,” she sighs, and Toni rolls her eyes.

“I’m kidding, relax,” she laughs, “it’s just a game, right?”

Martha smiles at her, pulling her into a hug. Toni breathes in the familiar smell of generic shampoo and tries to root herself in it.

“Hey y’all, sorry I’m late!”

Over Martha’s shoulder, Toni watches as this blonde white girl literally bounces over to the team. She’s got an obnoxiously high ponytail and a blindingly white smile. Martha is out of Toni’s arms and greeting this new girl before she can even blink.

“You would not believe the traffic out there right now,” the girl continues on, walking over arm-in-arm with Martha, “it was like a Sunday afternoon outside of church, all the way through town.”

 _Great_ , Toni thinks to herself with a huff, _a bible thumping coloniser_.

“Toni,” and Martha is in front of her with this blonde chick, “this is Shelby. Remember I was telling you about her?”

Toni blinks. “Not really.”

“That’s alright,” the girl, Shelby, says, “it’s nice to meet you, Toni. Martha’s told me so much about you.” She sticks her hand out and Toni looks at it. Martha clears her throat and Toni sighs, reaching out and taking the white girl’s hand.

She squeezes harder than is probably necessary.

“Firm shake,” Shelby says, her smile still stuck on her face.

Any snarky retort that Toni has on the tip of her tongue is cut short by Rachel calling the team to huddle up. Shelby excuses herself to run some warm-up lengths, pulling her sweatshirt up over her head and tossing it onto the bench.

Toni hates that she lets her gaze linger for just a second on the strip of skin that’s exposed with the movement.

“Alright, we’re oh-and-four right now,” Rachel says, and Fatin makes this sort of hissing noise, grimacing comically. Rachel glares at her, and Toni thinks that she might be meeting her match in terms of competitiveness.

“So, let’s make it five-and-oh,” Leah mumbles. The girls all snicker, except Rachel and Toni.

“If you’re not gonna take it seriously, Leah, you know where the door is,” Rachel snaps.

Leah holds up her hands in surrender. “Chill, Rachel. It’s intramural basketball.”

“Let’s all just have fun,” Martha chimes in.

“I’ll take centre,” Toni says.

“Rachel usually plays centre,” Nora speaks for the first time, and Toni furrows her brow.

“So? There’s only eight of us, we’ll have to sub through sometime.”

“I don’t sub.” Rachel says it and Toni can’t help the snort that sneaks out. “You got a problem?”

“Nah, no problem,” Toni says, waving her hand as she reigns in her laughter, “just that I find it hard to believe you can last a whole game without subbing.”

“You wanna bet?” Rachel steps towards her, and Toni follows suit, until they’re almost nose to nose.

“What’s going on here?”

It’s Shelby, hands on her waist and chest rising with her quickened breath.

“Nothing,” Dot says, “just these two having a dick measuring contest.” She grabs both of the posturing girls by their shoulders and pulls until they have to step back. “Toni, you can start at centre, and Rachel can be your sub. The rest of us can cycle through the other positions. Deal?”

“Sounds great to me,” Shelby says, and Toni grits her teeth at the drawl of her Texan accent. “Let’s have fun out there, okay?” She claps her hands together like they’re at a fucking summer camp, breaking the huddle and bouncing away onto the court.

Toni rolls her neck and jogs out to centre court. The other team is already set up, the referee waiting patiently for someone to take the tip-off. Toni shrugs and takes the initiative, stepping up to the circle. She looks over her shoulder at the three of her teammates who are taking the first sit. Martha looks happy where she’s settled between Nora and Leah, sipping on a red sports drink.

Distracted, Toni runs right into someone that smells like heaven.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” and of course, it’s Shelby, and Toni scowls. Shelby smiles in a pursed-lips kind of way, tilting her head. “I thought I’d take the tip-off, since I’m the tallest one out right now.”

“Well I’m the best player out right now,” Toni challenges, and Shelby gives this breathy sort of laugh, “unless anyone else here has captained a team before? Won state championships?”

“I was the best player at my summer bible camp a few years back,” Shelby says, “I got a little trophy and everything.”

“Yeah, well,” Toni crosses her arms over her chest, “Jesus never played ball.” It’s a weak comeback, but her blood is starting to boil under skin. Shelby just shakes her head with a little smile on her lips.

“Ladies, I really just need someone to jump for the ball,” the referee says, and Toni steps back.

“I don’t even care,” she snips, “take it.”

The game starts with Shelby missing the tip, and Toni curses under her breath. She turns on the gas and chases down the girl with the ball, getting right in her face to guard her. Her opponent is quick, pivoting and passing the ball off to her teammate.

“Who the fuck was guarding her?” Toni calls out as the new ball-handler runs through their defence and scores on a tight layup. Fatin holds out her arms and shrugs. “Guys, stick to your marks, come on!”

The game pretty much goes on like that. Their team manages to get a few lucky shots, Toni pushing her way through the defence and tossing three-pointers like her life depends on it.

It all falls apart in the final quarter, unsurprisingly.

Toni is pressing back against a defence, trying to get open for a pass from Nora. The girl she’s leaning on steps back suddenly, and Toni’s ass hits the floor.

“Toni, are you okay?” Nora calls across the court. In her distraction, one of the opposing team’s players steals the ball right from her hands and rushes down the court unopposed.

The swish of the net sets her off.

“Fuck!” Toni yells, whirling on the girl who had dropped her. “What’s your fucking problem?” She steps up to her, her vision tunneling. “If you’ve got a problem with me, bring it on!”

“Cool it,” the referee says, blowing his whistle half-heartedly. Toni laughs, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Oh, so _now_ you want to chime in with that whistle?” She turns on the referee now. “Try making the fucking call when she _fouls_ me again.”

Shelby appears out of nowhere, her hand hot on Toni’s arm. “Okay, let’s just take it down a notch.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” Toni spits, wrenching her arm from Shelby’s grip.

“Take a seat on the bench,” the referee says, “or get the hell out of the gym.”

“Fuck!” Toni yells, spinning on her heel and stomping across the court. She grabs her bag from where it sits by the bench and storms her way through the gym doors, down the hallways, and out into the night.

The sky is clear and dark, stars drowned out by the parking lot floodlights. Toni throws her bag on the ground and kicks it, shouting with each hit. Her arms chill in the cool air, the light coating of sweat cooling against her skin.

 _It’s just a game, Toni_.

_Just ignore them, Toni._

_It’s not worth it, Toni._

Toni grabs her bag and trudges over to the nearby bench, slumping onto it and tilting her head to the sky. Her anger ebbs like a tide until its out, and hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes. The shame, the embarrassment, that’s what always follows the anger, and here it comes on cue.

“Ninety-nine,” Toni counts softly to herself, “ninety-six, ninety-three.” She rummages through her bag and pulls out her jacket and water bottle. “Ninety, eighty-eight, eighty-five.” Pausing her counting, she takes a long drink of water. Some spills out the corner of her mouth, and she wipes it with the sleeve of her jacket.

The counting was something she had learned from some social worker, once upon a time. She’d thought it was stupid; if anything, math just stressed her out more, and she’d refused to try. But even the most stubborn tree will eventually fall to a woodsman’s axe.

At least math didn’t make her want to throttle someone.

She sits and waits until she sees people start to trickle out of the building. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Toni hesitantly approaches the familiar figures.

“Hey,” she says, hunching her shoulders. It’s impossible to miss the stink-eye looks that a few of the girls give her, but it’s nothing new enough to bother her. Martha meets her gaze with a reproachful, resigned look.

That’s familiar, too.

“Marty, I’m sorry,” Toni starts in a wavering tone, but Martha just shakes her head. Toni tucks her chin to her chest and sucks her lips over her teeth. She tries to subtly wipe her eye on her shoulder, sniffling slightly.

“Hey, why don’t we all go for pizza or something?” Shelby says, trying to cut through the tension. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m _starving_.”

“Pizza sounds nice,” Nora says.

Shelby loops her arm through Martha’s and smiles that blinding smile. “What do you say, Martha?”

A reluctant smile creeps onto Martha’s lips. “I guess pizza does sound pretty nice.”

“I could go for that,” Fatin agrees. The rest of the girls all chime in their interest, even Leah cracking a smile.

Toni stands to the side, twisting her fingers together behind her back.

“Come on, then,” Shelby says, and she directs her smile at Toni, “let’s all get going. I can give four people a ride in my car, if you’d like.”

There’s a chorus of “shot-gun!” and other trying to divide up into the available rides equally. At the end of it all, Toni finds herself squished in the backseat of Shelby’s car between Dot and Leah. There’s some cheesy country music on the stereo as they drive, the radio display confirming Toni’s suspicions that Shelby is trying to subconsciously convert them all.

“You get any metal stations with that thing?” Dot asks. Toni smirks and hides a laugh behind a snort. “What? I like my music to actually _rock_.”

“No, I like it,” Toni says, “it’s got grit.”

“I don’t think I know which station that would even be,” Shelby says from the driver’s seat, “I’m a bit of a one-trick pony with my music.”

“Just Jesus jams,” Toni mumbles, and it’s Dot and Leah’s turn to try and hide their laughter.

“I like it,” Martha says, and Toni rolls her eyes at her desperation to be liked by this fake, blonde bitch.

“You know, Martin Luther once said that next to the word of God, music is the greatest treasure in the world.” Shelby recites the line like she’s got it written across the back of her eyelids or something, and with a conviction that grates against every nerve in Toni’s body.

When they reach the restaurant, Toni sits as far away from Shelby as she can. Her voice still pierces her eardrums, that Texan twang floating down the table.

Toni spends most of the meal staring daggers at her. Shelby doesn’t seem to notice, hardly paying her any mind.

“I think this is real nice,” Shelby says as they all pay their bills, “just spending some time together like this. Makes me feel like we’re really coming together as a team.”

“Surprisingly,” Fatin says, “I have to agree with Mother Mary over there.”

“We should have a party,” Martha suggests. “Teams in movies always have parties.”

“I don’t party,” Rachel says in her deadpan way.

“You don’t sub, you don’t party,” Toni raises an eyebrow, “what next, you gonna tell us you don’t shit?”

“I’m a high-performance athlete,” Rachel fixes her with an even stare, “I don’t pollute my body with toxins like alcohol.”

“No one is going to pour vodka down your throat,” Toni says.

Nora puts her hand on her sister’s arm. “Team bonding is a really important part of sports performance. Usually, Rachel only has to bond with herself.” Everyone chuckles at that, except for Rachel and Toni, still locked in on each other.

“My daddy knows a guy who has this lakeside cabin near here,” Shelby says, “I’m sure he would let us all go up there for a weekend.”

“Your dad knows a guy who has a cabin,” Leah looks around at the group. “Does that not sound sketchy to anyone else?”

“Fuck it,” Dot says, “I’m in. I don’t care if Shelby’s planning to murder us, I’m pretty sure we could all fight her off.” Shelby laughs at that, ducking her head and smiling.

“I wouldn’t stand a dang chance.”

_ii._

It’s funny, Toni thinks, how once you’ve met someone, you see them everywhere.

She’d never noticed Shelby before, but now she was everywhere. Toni saw her at the drug store, at the gas station, at the fucking Olive Garden. Her sacred space, invaded by this random girl from Texas.

And no matter where she saw Shelby, she always heard her first. Her laugh was unmistakeable, her accent reaching Toni’s ears over any other noise.

It was like she was stalking Toni, in her impeccable outfits and perfectly coiffed hair.

Sometimes, Toni would see a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye, and she’d grit her teeth, expecting the ensuing pearly-white smile and golden cross, and there would be a drop in her stomach when she realised it wasn’t Shelby, for once.

It felt like she was on constant fucking alert, ready to dodge the good word at any moment.

Not that Shelby ever seemed to notice her.

In all the sightings, the innumerable times that Toni had huffed and ducked behind shelves, hidden her face behind a menu, Shelby had never seemed to notice or _care_ that Toni was there.

Pretty fucking rude, if you asked her.

It’s with all of this on her mind that Toni sits at a lonely table in a lonely bar on a Wednesday night, half a pint growing warm in a glass as she rips up a cheap cocktail napkin. Her eyes stare down at the scuffed table, nicks and scrapes from years of harsh use. Her eyes trace the little “T+R” that sits at the other side of the table.

Something golden and blonde catches her eye.

By some act of some vengeful and malevolent spirit, Toni’s eyes lock onto the now-familiar shape of Shelby’s body. She’s just entered the bar, Dot and Fatin by her side. They’re all rosy-cheeked from the wind outside, and Toni slumps down in her chair, tugging the collar of her jacket to try and hide her face. She watches as they find a table, Dot making her way to the bar to grab drinks.

Shelby’s eye catches her gaze.

 _Fuck_.

“Hey, Toni!” Shelby calls out across the bar, drawing the eyes of a few patrons. She doesn’t seem to care, just waving Toni over with that beaming smile. Fatin sort of wiggles her fingers, her eyes glued to her phone.

Toni tries to signal that she’s good, she’s happy where she is, but Shelby points her out to Dot, and then Dot is buying her a beer, and suddenly Toni finds herself sitting right across from Shelby.

She hadn’t noticed before that her eyes were green.

“What are you doing here all by your lonesome?” Shelby asks, and Toni taps her fingers on the cool glass.

“Enjoying some peace and quiet.”

Shelby sort of chuckles at that, but Toni holds her clenched jaw and stony eyes. Fatin’s gaze flickers between the two of them, an eyebrow cocked.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?”

That takes Toni by surprise. She hadn’t expected Shelby to have the balls to call her out, and she respects it by returning the bluntness.

“Not really, no.” Toni leans back in her chair and shifts her jaw, lifting her chin in defiance.

“Can I ask why?” Shelby shrugs and leans her forearms on the table. “I’ve been nothing but polite to you.”

“I just don’t get along with fake Christian bitches,” Toni answers. “In my books, your people don’t have a great track record.”

“Okay,” Dot says, drawing the word out, “how about we just shake hands and move on, alright?”

“Whatever,” Toni mutters. She cradles her glass against her shoulder, taking periodic sips as Dot directs the conversation to literally anything else.

They make small talk about classes, about work, about basketball and their now mutual acquaintances. Toni wouldn’t consider any of them her friend, except Martha.

_Obviously._

An eternity later, Dot and Fatin take off in a cab to their apartment. That’s something Toni learned tonight, that Dot and Fatin are roommates. Possibly two of the most different people she’s ever met, living together. Kind of mind-boggling.

That leaves Toni standing on the curb with Shelby.

“Do you live nearby?” Shelby asks.

Toni stuffs her hands in the pockets of her coat, “Not too far.”

“I don’t mind giving you a ride,” Shelby offers, “I haven’t been drinking at all.”

“I’ll walk.”

Shelby sighs and turns her eyes to the sky, fingering the cross that hangs against her collarbone, and maybe it’s the alcohol, but Toni can’t take her eyes off the shadows that the streetlights are casting across the dips of Shelby’s neck.

“Can you just let me drive you home?” Shelby asks. “Let me prove to you that I’m not some…how did you put it…fake, Christian bitch?”

Toni’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “You say your prayers with that mouth?”

“Very funny,” Shelby says, and she’s got a bit of a wry grin on her lips, “now, come on. I don’t want to have to _force_ you into my car.”

Toni sighs and relents, following Shelby to her shiny car. She slides into the passenger seat, the leather seat cool through the denim on her legs. Shelby starts the engine and turns on seat heaters.

“Pretty sweet ride,” Toni says. The car smells like leather and some sort of sweet air freshener.

“Thanks,” Shelby smiles, “my daddy gave it to me when I came here for college.” She pulls out of the parking space. “You can pick some music, if you like. And put your address in the GPS, I’ll just follow that to get you home.”

“What, you’re not letting Jesus take the wheel?” Tonia says it and immediately wonders if she meant it as a joke or not, because there’s the hint of a smile forcing its way on to her lips, and Shelby matches it.

“I’ll take care of the driving tonight,” Shelby says, “the Lord is only my shepherd when I’m traveling under 30 miles per hour.”

Toni snorts and fiddles with the car’s interface. She hates that Shelby is actually kind of funny. Her fingers tap in Martha’s address, seeing that it’s already been visited a few times. “You hung out with Marty?”

“Oh,” Shelby waves her hand, “just once or twice. Mostly just drove her home from games and class.”

“Right,” Toni says, “she said you were in her ethics course. I didn’t know that was part of an MRS degree.”

She doesn’t miss the way Shelby’s jaw tightens, the line of it highlighted by the passing streetlamps. “I’m actually a business major, if you wanted to know.”

“I didn’t.” Toni starts playing around with the radio, flipping through stations until she lands on one that she’s sure the girl beside her will hate.

“Oh, I like this song,” Shelby says.

“You _like_ Macklemore?”

Shelby nods, “Don’t you? You picked it.”

Toni folds her arms across her chest and shrugs. “It’s fine.”

They drive in silence the rest of the way, Shelby mumbling the words to nearly every song that came up. Toni notices how each “fuck” is changed to “frick”, “shit” to “stuff”, and so on, but for once she just clamps her mouth shut.

Shelby turns on her hazards when she parks out front of Martha’s house. “It was nice chatting with you, Toni.”

“Right,” Toni rolls her eyes, “sure it was.” She grabs the doorhandle and pulls it open, swinging her legs out of the car. Squeezing her eyes shut and swallowing her pride, she chokes out, “Thanks for the ride,” and then practically leaps from the car, slamming the door shut before she can hear Shelby say “god bless America” or whatever the fuck.

Martha’s mom is still up, nursing a cup of tea in front of the television, the Blackburn’s dogs at her feet. She doesn’t say anything as Toni sits down beside her, just reaches out and pats her on the knee. Toni curls up in the corner of the threadbare couch and pulls the familiar crocheted blanket over her legs. Her eyes start to drift shut, lulled to sleep by the comforting sound of the wheel of fortune spinning, spinning, spinning.

The morning comes with hot, wet, putrid dog breath. Toni groans and shoves whichever dog is in her face, sitting up slowly. Her mouth is dry and her stomach feels queasy, but she wraps the blanket around her shoulders and follows the smell of breakfast into the kitchen.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Martha greets through a mouthful of eggs. Toni grunts in response, accepting the cup of coffee that Bernice puts in her hands. She collapses at the kitchen table between Martha’s two little sisters. They both giggle at her, and Toni narrows her eyes in a scowl.

“Monsters,” she grumbles.

“Okay, girls,” Bernice holds up two backpacks, “school time. Leave Toni alone.” The little Blackburn girls push back from the table, their chairs scraping against the linoleum floor. Toni groans and rests her forehead on the table, waving a limp hand in the direction of the kids.

“You were out late,” Martha says.

“Maybe.”

Martha leans across the table and taps Toni’s head until she lifts it from the table. “Shelby texted me.”

“Do you have to bring her up over breakfast?” Toni runs a hand through her untamed hair. “I’m nauseous enough as it is.”

“Not nauseous enough to refuse a ride from her,” Martha comments with a little smirk.

“She bullied me into it,” and it’s a weak defence, but she sticks to it, “said she was gonna exorcise me unless I let her drive me home. Perform her white-guilt act of the week.”

Martha sighs, taking her empty plate to the sink and washing up. Toni sips on her coffee, squinting against the sunlight that pours in through the back sliding door.

“She’s really nice, Toni,” Martha says from the sink. “She always offers me rides, and she helped me pay for lunch when my card was declined.”

“White people love to help out poor little res girls,” Toni drawls, “I’m sure she’s thinking it’ll just look good on her application to eternal glory, or whatever.”

“Toni-”

“Whatever, Marty,” Toni sort of laughs, exasperation creeping into every corner of her voice, “can we go five fucking minutes without talking about her?”

Martha turns off the tap. “Sure.” There’s a few beats of suffocating silence until Martha speaks again. “Are you coming to the cabin party?”

“What did I just _fucking_ say?”

“Well,” Martha raises her hands and widens her eyes, “I didn’t say her name, I’m just trying to invite you to the party.”

Toni’s knuckles are white where she’s got an iron grip on the coffee mug.

“Please, Toni?” Martha pulls up the chair beside her, and Toni stares resolutely into her cup. “You know I’m not really a partier. I need my bodyguard.” Lips quirking up into a smile, Toni glances over at Martha’s earnest smile.

“Fine,” Toni huffs, “but if it sucks, you’re gonna owe me for the rest of our lives.”

_iii_.

So, clearly Shelby has a very different idea of what a constitutes a cabin than Toni does, because she’d definitely classify this place as a fucking mansion. Toni and Martha stare up at the three-storey ‘cabin’ in awe, Dot mumbling a ‘holy fuck’ beside them. The rest of the girls don’t seem to notice how fucking _insane_ this place is, just wandering in through the giant front door and chatting excitedly.

“This is,” Martha begins, trailing off.

“Not a cabin,” Toni finishes. She shakes her head, “fucking one percenters.”

Dot snorts at that, hefting her backpack, “you can say that again.”

“I’ll bet you ten bucks there’s a sex dungeon hidden behind a bookcase,” Toni says, the three of them starting up the steps.

“I’ll bet it’s a murder dungeon.”

Toni barks out a laugh and nods her head. “I’ll take that action.”

If it’s at all possible, the inside of the mansion is even more imposing than the exterior. It’s all wood paneling, and Toni feels like she’s stepped back in time to the early twentieth century, and she’s been brought to some estate manor home for a weekend of hunting. Animal trophies line the front hallway, and she spares a look over to Martha.

“You okay, Marty?”

Martha swallows and nods. “Yeah.” She keeps her eyes down as she takes off her shoes and quickly makes her way through to the next room where the rest of the girls can be heard laughing and chatting away.

Toni and Dot follow her, and this room is somehow more ridiculous than the first. Brown leather couches, a monstrous fireplace with a big cross above it, a rug that’s bigger than any room Toni’s ever had.

By her rough estimation, Toni thinks the Blackburn house could fit into this room twice over.

“Okay,” Shelby is standing in front of the fireplace, the cross shining above her head, “so there are a few house rules we’ll need to follow while we’re here.”

“Great,” Toni mumbles, flopping back on one of the couches. For something that looks so expensive, it’s really fucking uncomfortable.

“There are a few rooms that are locked,” Shelby continues, her smile taking on a strained quality as she drifts her eyes over Toni, “and I’d ask that you all respect that. Use coasters on the tables, no dirty shoes past the entrance hall. And, of course, have fun!”

“Oh god,” Fatin groans, “she’s going full youth group on us.” Toni watches her rummage through her bag and pull out a massive bottle of tequila. “Enough talking, bitches; let’s fucking party!”

By the time the sun has set, Toni is pleasantly drunk. She feels warm all over, a smile permanently floating on her face despite Shelby’s best efforts to make the day feel like a summer camp straight out of Toni’s worst nightmares. Somehow, they had avoided having to play too many “icebreakers”, Rachel taking initiative to set up a table for beer pong to keep them all distracted. Toni couldn’t help but smirk at the way Shelby’s eyes were worrying holes into the mahogany table, despite it being covered by a plastic sheet.

Toni celebrated every shot she landed, popping goofy dance moves and brushing her shoulders like she was scoring threes in the NBA.

Sometime after they had eaten a very drunk dinner, Dot had called them all out to the lakeside deck, a fire roaring in the big pit. Toni lingered back, volunteering to bring out some drinks and snacks.

As she digs through the fridge, a throat clears behind her.

“Jesus, fuck,” she jumps in surprise.

“I’m sorry, I tried not to startle you,” and of course it’s Shelby, hair loosely piled on the top of her head.

Toni blinks and shakes her head, because for a split second, there’s a flutter in her stomach at the gentle slope of Shelby’s neck, the tantalising way some stray hair tickles at the skin there.

“Yeah, well,” she twitches an eyebrow up, “you did.”

“I just thought maybe you could use a hand,” Shelby says, pushing past Toni’s hostility.

Toni flexes her jaw. “You could grab the snacks, I guess.”

“Great,” and Shelby smiles like it’s the best thing she’s ever been allowed to do, “you know, that’s something good about Christians. We help people.”

Toni can’t help the scoff that escapes her throat. “Uh, I have to disagree there.”

“Why’s that?” Shelby says. “You know, most of the world’s leading charitable organisations were put in place by churches.”

“Okay,” Toni says, widening her eyes and slamming the fridge shut, “but you were also responsible for the genocide of my people and culture. You know, my grandparents were in the residential school system. Martha’s, too. Go ahead and ask them if they think Christians are helpful.”

“Well, I never said we were perfect,” Shelby defends, and Toni laughs.

“Sure,” she says, “you didn’t have to. It’s all over your face.” Without waiting for an answer, Toni grabs the case of beer and strides past the other girl and through the back door. She storms her way to the fire, taking her seat next to Martha and passing the beer around.

“Hey, Toni,” Leah calls for her attention through the flames, “where’s Shelby?”

“I don’t know,” Toni says, “probably giving thanks for the Takis she’s supposed to be down.”

Everyone laughs, and Toni smirks, enjoying the attention for once.

“What’s so funny?”

Everyone’s laughter dies down as Shelby approaches, her arms full of food.

“Uh,” Fatin looks around the circle of girls and her eyes widen as she searches for an excuse, “Rachel farted.”

“I did not!” Rachel opposes, and everyone bursts into laughter again. Shelby sort of smiles, taking the seat on the other side of Martha.

The smell of her perfume drifts through the air to Toni’s nose.

“God gave us these beautiful bodies,” Shelby says, and Toni rolls her eyes, “so everything they do is godly and beautiful.”

“Amen,” Fatin says, closing her eyes and waving her hand in the air.

Somehow, through some train of conversation Toni couldn’t follow, the group decides to play charades. Like they’re a group of seventy-year-old women after a bingo game. And, somehow, they decide that whoever just acted out the words gets to pick the charade for the next person.

“Well, it’ll just mix it up more that way,” was Shelby’s reasoning, “don’t you think?”

Toni spends most of the game drinking, not caring too much to participate, but she still manages to guess Fatin’s shitty impression of a bear. There’s something wicked in Fatin’s eyes as she leans over and gives Toni her topic.

Toni swallows back her laughter and nods. She holds up two fingers.

“Two words,” Martha says. Toni nods, then puts those two fingers on either side of her mouth and sticks out her tongue, making an exaggerated face, flicking her tongue and rolling her body. All the girls break out into laughter, and it eggs her on, her movements becoming more exaggerated and theatrical.

“Lick the clit!” Leah calls out, and Fatin shrieks out a laugh at that.

“Damn, she knows what she’s doing,” Rachel howls with laughter.

“Would you stop?!”

Toni freezes, opening her eyes and finding Shelby. She’s staring into the fire with wide eyes, every muscle in her body tense. 

“Okay,” Dot says, looking down at her hands, “that was hilarious and Shelby has no chill.”

“Excuse me, I _have_ chill,” and Shelby looks the opposite of chill, “I just don’t find that kind of thing very funny, is all.”

“What kind of thing?” And Toni knows the answer as she asks, but there’s a burning fire in her chest now. The look on Shelby’s face is familiar, the way she won’t look anyone in the eye.

Shelby shrugs, still staring with unblinking, hard eyes. “Pornographic gestures.” She starts gesturing with her hands, her arms stiff. “I’m a Christian, okay, I’m from a very Christian home, so I’m allowed to be a little skeeved out.”

“Get the cross outta your ass,” Fatin says, but Toni can’t take her eyes off of Shelby, can’t look away from how uncomfortable she looks, how disgusted she looks, “it’s _fun_ to be filthy.” As if to emphasis her point, Fatin licks Takis dust off her fingers in a very explicit way.

“That’s not all that’s going on here,” Toni interrupts, and Shelby still won’t look her in the eye, and that just drives her anger even further. “Don’t bullshit me, Shelby. I’ve felt this vibe a few too many times to not know what it is.”

“Toni, I’m sure that’s not it,” Martha says, but Toni laughs.

“Look at her face, Marty,” Toni says, pointing a finger at the hard clenched muscles of Shelby’s face, “she can’t even _look_ at me. It’s not porn that ‘skeeves’ her out, it’s gay.”

Martha fixes Shelby with a confused look. “That’s not true, is it?”

“Look, I’ll be as honest as possible with y’all, because you deserve that,” Shelby says, and Toni just lets out this breath of air, leaning back in her seat, “I do believe that way of life is a sin.”

“Jesus Christ,” Toni laughs, “fuck you.”

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Shelby tries, and finally she looks at Toni, but it feels like there’s a thousand more miles between them than there have ever been before, “but everything I have ever known has taught me that.”

Toni stands up and nods her head. “Yeah, well, maybe I should have known to listen to everything I’ve ever known about white Christians like you, and stayed the fuck away from here.”

“Look, there’s no hate in my heart,” Shelby continues, “I just feel sorry-”

“Fuck you!” That’s the last straw, and Toni shoves her chair back until it tips over, letting her anger carry her feet off into the darkness. Behind her she can hear the quiet voices of the other girls drift on the breeze. She storms through the house, not bothering to take her shoes off, stomping her feet to try and get as much dirt off the soles of her shoes as possible onto the floor.

She collapses backwards onto the bed she’s sharing with Martha, staring up at the ceiling. Her heart is slamming into her ribs like a fist, blood rushing in her ears.

“Ninety-nine,” she says through gritted teeth, “ninety-six…”

_iv_.

After that weekend, Toni doesn’t see Shelby everywhere anymore. It feels like someone, or something, is finally on her side, letting her get on with her life without having to avoid every flash of blonde hair and white teeth.

Of course, she takes up a good chunk of Toni’s brain. That night plays on a loop in her head when she lies awake at night, all the things she should’ve and could’ve said. Scenarios where she punches Shelby right in her perfect mouth. One where someone stood up and did it for her.

She has dreams about it, too. Although she knows her subconscious is truly sadistic when a lot of those dreams revolve around tackling Shelby to the ground and, well, definitely _not_ punching her.

Toni can’t believe her dumb brain is this hung up on the opinion of some shitty white girl.

She _really_ can’t believe that her dumb fucking brain is turning that into some sort of sexual thing. Because it really isn’t. Sure, Toni has eyes, but no matter how pretty Shelby is, no part of her wants her in that way. Because she’s a bigot. And annoying. And the total antithesis of everything Toni believes in.

The next time she sees Shelby is at work. It’s her fourth job in as many months, and somehow this Arby’s was desperate enough to hire her as a waitress. It’s definitely the worst job she’s had, but she needs the money, so she’s been slapping on her apron and fake smile as best she can.

It’s a Friday night, just after seven, when Shelby comes through the doors with a group of equally white-bread people. Toni curses under her breath, bussing her table as quickly as possible and praying to anyone who’s listening that Shelby’s group doesn’t get seated in her area.

Of course, no one is listening.

Toni grits her teeth and grabs her pad of paper. Her fingers are wrapped so tightly around her pen she thinks she might snap it, but she swallows her pride and her rage and heads over to the table.

“Hi, welcome to Arby’s,” Toni says, “can I start you with some drinks?”

Shelby looks up, looking just as shocked as Toni felt when she saw her come through those doors.

“I think just a couple jugs of water will do, right?” A man says, and Toni takes enough of a look around the table to realise that this is Shelby’s family. Her mother and father, and two younger kids.

Toni feels this deep, aching sense of dread right in the pit of her stomach.

“Sounds great,” Shelby’s mom says, and Toni nods.

“I’ll be right back with those.”

Her heart is pounding in her ears, she feels dizzy as she walks back to the kitchen. She fills two pitchers of water, apologising as she accidentally bumps into one of her coworkers. Her arms shake as she carries them back to the table, setting them down carefully.

She has to lean past Shelby to do so, and that same perfume fills her senses.

“Uh, are you ready to order?”

Shelby’s father orders for everyone. Toni can feel Shelby’s eyes on her, but she keeps her head down and focused on writing the order. She makes the usual reassurance that it won’t be too long, and she goes to hand the ticket off to the kitchen. With a brief word to her supervisor, she heads off to the bathroom.

The lock clicks behind her and Toni leans on the sink, taking a few deep breaths. She splashes water on her face and stares at herself in the mirror.

“Toughen up, Shalifoe,” she mutters, “she’s just a shitty bigot you hardly even know. Get _over_ it.”

Their food is delivered, all the healthiest plates that Arby’s has to offer. Toni watches from across the room as they all bow their heads in prayer.

Shelby’s eyes stay open, and she finds Toni across the room.

Toni turns away.

Unsurprisingly, Shelby’s dad is a shitty tipper. He writes “god bless you” on the bill, tipping at a measly ten percent. Toni pushes out a smile and wishes them all a goodnight, beginning to bus their table. Dishes are stacked, the table wiped down and sprayed with some cleaning solution.

“Hey.”

Toni sighs and finishes wiping the table.

“What do you want, Shelby?” She turns and faces her.

There’s something different about her. Toni’s eyes trace the makeup, heavier than usual. Her hair looks sprayed to shit, barely bouncing as she looks around them.

“I just,” and she hesitates, clasping her hands in front of her chest, “I wanted to say hi.”

“Okay,” Toni looks around them at the restaurant, “well, I have to work. So…”

“Right,” Shelby says, “of course, I just…well, I was wondering if maybe, sometime, you’d like to get a coffee with me?”

“Why the _fuck_ would I want to do that?” Toni can hardly believe her ears. Maybe she hadn’t been clear enough with the amount of ‘fuck you’ energy she’d given out throughout the rest of the cabin weekend.

“I thought we could talk.”

Toni laughs, scornful, and she doesn’t miss the way Shelby flinches ever so slightly. “We don’t have anything to talk about, Shelby.”

“I don’t hate you, Toni,” and she steps a bit closer, and there’s something almost desperate about her eyes now, “you get that, right?”

Toni’s heart starts to race, the smell of Shelby’s perfume intoxicating her. She swallows and grabs her cloth from the table. “Fine. Coffee.” And she steps back, trying to put more space between them.

“Thank you,” Shelby says, and the smile she offers isn’t that fake pageant bullshit, it’s small and careful, and it knocks the anger from Toni’s chest with a gentle hand. “I’ll send you a text message, we can set it up.”

“You don’t have my number,” Toni points out.

Shelby raises and eyebrow. “Don’t I?”

“Martha.” Toni sighs and shakes her head. “Fucking Martha.”

Shelby backs up, still keeping her eyes on Toni. “I’ll see you later, Toni.”

“Whatever,” Toni mumbles, entirely uncomfortable with where this conversation landed. Shelby’s smile widens for just a second, and then she’s turning and walking away. Toni watches her go until she realises what she’s doing, and drags her eyes away from the shape of Shelby’s body.

“What the _fuck_.”


	2. v - viii

_v._

The coffee shop is as pretentious as Toni expected it would be. Quiet indie-folk plays over the speakers; a dude with an obnoxiously large moustache mans the espresso machine.

Shelby is already here, looking surprisingly dressed-down in a light pink hooded thing and these multi-toned joggers.

Toni hates the part of her that takes an extra second to appreciate the simple beauty that the other girl is radiating.

“Hi,” Shelby greets her with a smile. The small one, the one that barely shows her teeth.

Toni sits down across from her. “Hey.”

“I wasn’t sure what you drank,” Shelby says, “but I took a guess and figured a black coffee couldn’t go awry?” She gently pushes a white ceramic mug across the table. It smells delicious, and Toni carefully wraps her fingers around it.

She takes a sip. “Thanks.”

“I really appreciate you coming to talk to me,” Shelby says, and Toni shrugs, taking another sip. “I know you think I’m an asshole.”

The word catches Toni off-guard, and she nearly chokes on her drink. “Better say your hail-Mary’s next.”

Shelby rolls her eyes, teeth biting into her bottom lip as she grins.

Toni doesn’t reciprocate.

“Anyways,” Shelby takes a deep breath, “I just wanted to see if we could reconcile our differences. Talk it out.”

“I don’t think talking is going to change the fact that you think I’m living in sin,” Toni says, sharpening her words. “I saw the look on your face when shit got just a _little_ too gay for you.”

“I don’t hate you, Toni,” Shelby says, echoing her words from a few days ago. Toni shakes her head and juts her jaw out.

“You shuddered,” she grits out through her teeth, “I’m sorry, but that’s hate.”

Shelby’s smile has fallen now, and she leans in. “Do you think is easy for me?” She presses her lips together and looks around them. “I have my beliefs, okay? I can’t just…I can’t just change them overnight. But I don’t hate you, I don’t hate anyone! All I have ever done is try to love people, no matter who they are or what choices they’ve made.”

There’s something desperate about her voice and her eyes. Toni takes a long drink of the coffee, and it burns her throat on the way down. Shelby stares at her, waiting for some sort of answer.

“You realise you haven’t even apologised?” Toni points out. “Like, you’re just here preaching.”

“I’m just,” and Shelby flattens her shaking hands on the table, “I’m trying to get you to understand. Where I’m coming from.” The breath she takes is rattling, and Toni watches her warily. “I have struggles, you know? It’s not like I’ve just had an easy life.”

“Okay, Becky,” Toni scoffs, “tell me all about your problems.” She leans back in her seat and cocks an eyebrow.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Shelby starts, and Toni can already feel the multitude of eye-rolling that’s about to take over her body, “to be scrutinised for – for the slightest bit of weight gain, or a tremble in my heel, or Lord forbid I screw up a question about international politics.” She shakes her head slightly, closing her eyes against the world for a second.

“You signed up for that shit,” Toni says, recalling the talk of pageants from that fateful cabin weekend.

Shelby’s brow tugs inwards until her forehead is wrinkled. “I’m not just talking about the…pageant stuff.”

That piques Toni’s interest. She doesn’t let it show, though, keeping her expression as uninterested as possible.

“I feel like, no matter where I go,” Shelby keeps talking now, seemingly on some kind of roll, “everyone expects me to _be_ something. To be this perfect person.”

“Yeah, well,” Toni can’t stop herself from interrupting, “no one expects shit from me. That doesn’t feel great, either.”

“You don’t get it-”

“You know what, Shelby?” Toni leans forward, slamming her mug down on the table, “if you’re gonna try and ‘out-sad’ me, it’s a losing fucking battle, okay? My dad’s been a no-show since day one, my mom’s in and out of rehab like it’s the motherfucking White Castle.”

“Toni, I -”

“No, Shelby,” Toni cuts her off again, “this isn’t a competition. We’re not in the same league here. I _saw_ you with your family, I watched you all hold hands and pray. I bet your parents went on every field trip with you.” She purses her lips and forces the tears in her eyes to stay put. “Mine weren’t even around the sign the fucking permission slip.” The chair slides loudly on the floor, and she stands. “Thanks for the coffee. It was really fucking eye-opening.”

“Wait, Toni,” and she’s following her out the café doors, “please wait.”

Toni whips around and glares at her, the harsh wind stinging her cheeks. She looks her up and down, the too-short hem of her sweater revealing the smallest bit of skin above her waistband, her hair being blown wildly in the wind.

Something keeps her rooted to the ground, even when every muscle in her body wants to run away.

“I’m not trying to out-sad you,” Shelby presses, and she steps forward, grabbing Toni’s wrist and pulling her to the side of the building. The wind is blocked here, and Shelby paces back and forth in front of her, her hands flexing at the ends of stiff arms.

“Then what are we doing?” Toni asks.

“Can’t you see how lucky you are?” Shelby’s eyes drill into her own, and Toni leans back against the brick wall. “You’re free, don’t you get that? Free from expectation, free to do whatever you want to – to _be_ whoever you want.”

“So are you!” Toni’s voice raises, exasperated. “When will you ever be freer than right now? You’re a thousand miles from home, you’re at college, who the fuck is watching what you do, what you say?” Toni laughs and raises her arms. “Look around you. Who do you think _cares_?”

It happens suddenly, in the blink of an eye.

Shelby’s hands are cold where they grab at Toni’s neck, the tips of her nails digging slightly into her skin.

Her lips are warm as they press against Toni’s lips, soft in their texture but frantic and hard in their movements.

Toni finds Shelby’s waist, then her ribs, tracing the curve of her side.

They press together. Shelby smells like that same perfume.

She tastes like coffee.

Toni presses forward, pulling Shelby closer until they’re flush together, Toni’s back still against the wall.

There’s the suggestion of a tongue at the seam of her lips.

And then there’s cold.

Shelby stumbles back, Toni’s eyes fluttering open.

“What…” is all Toni can get out.

Shelby’s eyes are wide, her fingers touch her lips.

That’s when she runs.

“Shelby,” Toni calls after her, her voice breaking as she pushes off the wall and rushes after Shelby as she breaks down the street. “Shelby, wait!” An elderly woman steps in front of her, and Toni has to put on the brakes before she knocks her over. By the time she’s manoeuvred around the woman, Shelby’s nowhere to be seen.

_vi_.

Martha sprains her ankle during a dance rehearsal. She pleads and pleads with Toni until she reluctantly agrees to sub in for that stupid basketball team again.

The team all greets Toni with smiles, patting her on the back and telling her not to “hulk out” again. Toni takes it all in stride, giving them a cocky grin and some equally cocky words.

Shelby stays seated on the bench, unable to meet Toni’s eyes.

It feels like something that should make her angry, that should rile her up, but somehow it does the opposite. It feels like an answer, it makes everything make sense.

And mostly, she just feels sorry for Shelby. Which is _not_ something she thought she would ever feel.

“No pep-talk today, youth group?” Fatin teases as Shelby just stands and heads out onto the court. “Yikes, who pissed in her holy water?”

“Come on guys,” Rachel says, “last game. Let’s try to lose by less than twenty points.” She looks over to Toni and nods. “You wanna take centre?”

“Sure,” Toni says, accepting the metaphorical olive branch.

The game is a pretty even back and forth. Toni shoots a few show-off threes, accepting the high fives that her teammates offer her.

Her eyes drift back to Shelby every few minutes, trying to catch her eye.

Shelby misses nearly every pass they feed her, eventually excusing herself from the game and taking a seat in the bleachers, holding her head in her hands.

At half-time, Toni stands on the outskirts of the huddle and watches Shelby out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey, guys?” She breaks into their mid-game chat and nods in Shelby’s direction. “Maybe someone should go make sure she’s okay?”

Everyone gives her a weird look, like they can’t believe it’s _Toni_ who suddenly cares about Shelby’s well-being.

“We can’t run on just one sub,” Toni defends.

“I’ll go see what’s got our pageant princess down,” Dot says, “you guys hold the fort until we’re back.”

Toni nods and tries to push down that niggling feeling in the back of her head, like she could do something more.

“Okay, you heard her,” Rachel says, picking up the leadership mantle, “keep it tight, keep the passes sharp. It’s about possession now, okay?”

They play five minutes with no subs, and Toni has to wipe the sweat from her brow before it drips into her eyes. She feels zoned in, making crisp passes and clean shots. Her elbows go up a few times, knocking the ribs of another girl on the court when she keeps getting too close, but that familiar, all-consuming anger stays at a gentle simmer.

Shelby’s back on the court before the quarter is over. The fog she was in before seems to have lifted now, and she even cracks a smile whenever their team sinks a shot.

They only lose by ten points, and they celebrate like they won by a hundred. Toni lets herself be swept up in the group hug, the girls all jumping around and cheering like it’s the NBA finals.

“Pizza!” Martha suggests from her crutches. The team cheers and they all gather their stuff, figuring out rides. Toni watches Shelby hang back, slowly gathering her things.

“Hey, Miss Texas, you coming for pizza?” Leah asks.

Shelby shakes her head. “I’m pretty tired, actually. I might just head on home.” She offers them a smile. “You campers have fun, though.”

“Hey, could you give me a ride home, too?” Toni doesn’t know where the words come from, but it’s too late to take them back now. “I, uh, had a big dinner. And I’m broke.”

“Don’t be a dumb bitch, I’ll pay for you,” Fatin says, but Toni shakes her head.

“Nah, I just want to get home,” she says, her eyes still stuck to Shelby’s.

“Let’s go, then.”

The car ride is silent, not even the radio to cut the tension between the two of them. Shelby doesn’t attempt any small talk, just keeps her eyes fixed on the road ahead. Toni fiddles with the broken corner of her phone case, not sure how far she should try and push Shelby into some sort of conversation.

A new rosary dangles from the rearview mirror.

Shelby parks in front of the Blackburn house, turning off the engine.

“Thanks for the ride,” Toni says. She taps her fingers on the door handle, looking over at the girl in the driver’s seat. She can see the clenching and unclenching of Shelby’s jaw under the flickering streetlamp, the way her hands grip the steering wheel with white knuckles.

“It’s no problem.”

Toni pulls her mouth to the side of her face, contemplating just how dumb the next thing she says is going to be.

“Do you want to come inside?”

Shelby looks at her, shock written over her face. “Inside?”

“Yeah, like,” Toni shrugs, “for some water?”

“I’m not sure I should.”

“It’s just water.” Toni quirks her lips into a smile. “If we’re feeling really crazy, Mrs. B sometimes leaves some Sunny D lying around in the fridge for me.”

“Well,” Shelby sighs and Toni watches the corner of her lips slowly lift, “I _do_ like Sunny D.”

Toni unlocks the front door and lets Shelby in, holding it open for her. Shelby slips inside and waits, her hands tapping on the sides of her thighs. The TV is on in the living room, playing something that sounds like a Disney movie.

“Hey,” Toni pops her head into the living room, greeting the younger Blackburn girls and Bernice, “I invited Shelby in for some water.”

Shelby waves from behind Toni. “Hi. Thank you so much for opening up your home to me.”

“Of course,” Bernice looks about as confused as confused can get, but she smooths a smile over her face, “it’s so nice to see you again, Shelby.”

“C’mon.” Toni leads Shelby down the short hallway to the kitchen. She directs Shelby to take a seat at the table, filling up two tall plastic cups with water from the cooler.

“Thank you.” Shelby takes the water and downs half of it. Toni sits across from her and takes a small sip of her own.

“Are you,” Toni hesitates and scratches at her nose, “okay?”

“I’m fine,” Shelby says, and Toni feels like she can actually see the pieces of the façade that Shelby puts on, like a fucking puzzle, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“I just,” and she hesitates again, “you seemed distracted today. At the game, I mean.”

“Oh, you know how it is with school,” Shelby says, “there’s always something to be stressed about.”

“Right,” Toni nods, “but also like, the whole…” She sort of makes a weird gesture between the two of them, her hand flailing a little.

“Oh.” Shelby laughs, fake and forced, “I’d totally forgotten about that.”

“Cut the shit, Shelby,” Toni snaps. “Of all people, you can talk to _me_ about it, okay? We kissed. It’s out there.” Shelby’s eyes are downcast, and Toni can feel the table shake from the force of Shelby’s shaking leg. “Look, I just…I wanted to let you know that if you want to talk to someone about it, I’m here. No judgement.”

Shelby makes a scoffing sound in the back of her throat.

“Well, maybe a little judgement,” Toni admits with a tiny grin, “but it’s not like you care what I think.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it,” Shelby says, and Toni’s never heard her voice sound so small, so broken, “not yet.” She puts her hand in the middle of the table and turns it palm up. Green eyes finally lift and find Toni’s, the shimmer of tears impossible to miss under the incandescent lights.

Toni carefully puts her hand in Shelby’s, twining their fingers together.

They sit like that for a while, hands held together in a tentative way, sipping quietly at their water. Toni’s stomach feels full of butterflies every time they catch each other’s eye.

The sounds of the TV stop in the other room, and Toni tries not to take it too personally when Shelby snatches her hand back before anyone can see. Shelby clears her throat and looks into her cup, both hands now wrapped around it.

“Toni, I’m going to bed,” Bernice informs her from the foot of the stairs, “will you stay up until Martha comes home?”

“Sure thing,” Toni replies, “goodnight Mrs. B.”

“Goodnight,” Bernice says, “and goodnight Shelby.”

“G’night,” Shelby chimes in, “and thank you again.”

Toni sighs and leans back in her chair. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Are you sure?” Shelby taps her fingers on the cup. “I wouldn’t want Martha comin’ home and thinking that you’re being nice to me all of a sudden.”

“I’m sure I can come up with some excuse,” Toni matches the teasing tone that Shelby set. “Hey, do you want to borrow a sweater or something? This house is pretty cold.” She looks at Shelby’s bare arms, already looking a little goose-pimpled.

“That would be nice,” Shelby says.

“Okay, well, you can go ahead and see if there’s anything you want to watch.” Toni stands and points her thumb over her shoulder, “I’ll just go grab it. The sweater.”

Shelby smiles and nods, standing and brushing past Toni in the doorway. Her fingers trail over Toni’s waist as she passes, so light and quick that Toni thinks she might have imagined it. Shaking her head, she jogs up the stairs to Martha’s room.

Her stuff is in a couple bins in the corner, and she has to dig to the bottom to pull out a hoodie. It’s old, with frayed cuffs and stitching on the chest that’s starting to unravel. She considers it for a moment, running her fingers over the gold thread.

_It’s only weird if you make it weird._

With that in mind, she folds up the sweater and places in on Martha’s bed while she changes into some not-sweaty sweats and a thin sweatshirt, retying her ponytail and rubbing deodorant onto her pits.

Shelby is tucked into the corner of the couch by the window, her legs folded up to her chest as she flicks through different shows. Toni sits at the other end, giving the blonde lots of space.

“Here,” she holds the sweater out, “sorry it’s kind of ratty, but it’s actually my nicest one, if you can believe it.”

Shelby takes it and unfolds it, holding it out in front of her. “Hopewell Lake,” she reads with a little smile. “Is this the championship basketball team you were bragging about?”

“Sure is,” Toni answers, “I was the captain until I got banned.”

“You got banned?”

Toni groans and tilts her head back. “I threw my own piss at a girl.”

“My word,” Shelby says, chuckling a bit as she pulls the sweater on, “what did she do to deserve that? Kill your dog?”

“She fouled me one too many times,” Toni sighs. “You think I’m volatile now, you should’ve seen me when I was sixteen. Hormones, heartbreaks, I was like a goddamn nuclear bomb waiting to go off.”

“So, what does that make you now?” Shelby leans a little closer, shifting her body around so she’s facing Toni.

“Just a regular bomb.”

They exchange smiles, and Toni reaches over to grab the remote.

“I was thinking maybe a musical,” Shelby says, “have you ever seen _Moulin Rouge_?” Toni shakes her head, but she’s already searching for the movie and hitting play before Shelby can even explain the pick. “You don’t even want to argue with me about it?”

Toni shrugs. “If it’s shitty, I’ll turn it off, don’t worry.” Shelby rolls her eyes, and the movie begins.

Ten minutes in, Toni feels soft skin against her hand. She looks over at Shelby, whose eyes are fixed on the screen. Smiling softly to herself, Toni takes Shelby’s hand and shuffles a little closer on the couch. She sees Shelby’s eyes flit over to her for a second, feels her hand tighten.

Toni squeezes back.

They watch the movie like that, hands linked in the space between them. Shelby hums along with the songs, and Toni spends most of the movie watching her lips move silently along with the lines.

Martha comes home halfway through the movie, and Toni’s the one to pull her hand back this time.

“In here, Marty,” she calls out, hitting the pause button on the movie.

Martha comes into the room and stops, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise at seeing Shelby there. “Hey, guys.”

“Hi, Martha,” Shelby greets.

Martha looks at Toni with a hundred questions in her eyes, but Toni gives her the slightest shake of the head.

“What are you watching?” She asks, shooing Toni over on the couch so she can take her preferred spot against the arm. Toni moves over, but stays far enough away from Shelby so their legs don’t touch.

“ _Moulin Rouge_ ,” Shelby says, “have you seen it?”

“I have,” Martha answers, “but I can’t believe you got Toni to watch it. She hates musicals, says all the singing characters are too happy and annoying.”

“I do _not_ ,” Toni counters, “I just don’t always get why they’re singing. But this one is pretty good.”

“Okay, weirdo,” Martha says. Toni rolls her eyes and presses play.

The rest of the movie passes at a torturous pace. Toni can feel Shelby beside her, can smell the mix of sweat and perfume that drifts from her skin. She tries to distract herself with the movie, focusing in on the plot, but that just makes her feel like she’s going to start crying.

“This is really fucking depressing,” Toni whispers, leaning over to Shelby. When the other girl doesn’t respond, Toni looks at her and sees her jaw hanging slack where her head rests on her own shoulder, her eyelids shut.

Something warm and fluttery happens inside Toni’s chest at the sight.

“Hey, Marty,” Toni taps Martha’s shoulder, “Shelby passed out.”

“Don’t you _dare_ draw a dick on her face, Toni Shalifoe.”

“What?” Toni shakes her head. “Dude, no, I wouldn’t…well, I would, but not right now.” She pauses the movie and twists her lips. “I thought maybe she could stay in your room, on my mattress? She probably shouldn’t drive if she’s this tired. I’ll take the couch.”

Martha gives her this look, like she’s up to something. “You’re being weird tonight. I thought you hated Shelby. You’ve called her a coloniser, like, every time you’ve talked about her.”

“She’s not that bad,” Toni admits, and she hates that she means it, but she hates even more that she feels so much more than those words can encompass. “Besides, I’m getting a little old to be holding grudges. It just…seems a little childish.”

“I’m so proud of you, Toni,” Martha coos, wrapping her arm around Toni’s shoulders and pulling her tight.

“Yeah, yeah,” and Toni waves off the praise, “I’m amazing, I know.” She stands and nods at Shelby. “I’m going to get ready for bed. You should probably tell her the plan; I don’t know how well she’d take it from me.”

“You know,” Martha says, and Toni waits, “if you didn’t try to seem so scary all the time, you might even have more friends than me.”

Toni laughs. “No way, Marty B.” She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her sweats and lets herself take in the scene of Shelby asleep on the Blackburn’s faded old couch, in Toni’s ratty high school basketball hoodie, and she stores it away, somewhere warm and safe. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The morning comes too soon, as it always does. Toni sits up slowly, stretching her arms above her head with a monstrous yawn. The familiar sounds and smells of morning at the Blackburn house are reaching her now, and she heaves herself up off the couch.

It’s jarring to see Shelby sitting at the table with Martha’s sisters, chatting with them and smiling that big smile of hers. Toni keeps an eye trained on her as she pours herself a cup of coffee. Martha comes downstairs then, and Toni rips her gaze away from the domestic scene that’s playing out in front of her.

“Morning,” Martha greets, reaching past Toni to grab her own mug and fill it up. Toni leans out of the way, the edge of the counter pressing against her lower back. She grunts a response, not feeling verbal yet.

“Good morning, y’all,” Shelby says, turning her pearly smile to the two of them. Toni nods in return, Martha managing to get some words out. The two of them start chatting, asking how the other slept, the typical pleasantries you’d partake in after passing out at someone’s house.

Toni follows Martha over to the table, slumping down into the chair across from Shelby. The blonde seems wrapped up in simultaneous thumb wars with Martha’s sisters, but Toni catches her eyes drifting over to her a few times.

“Where’s mom?” Martha asks.

“She got called in early,” the youngest Blackburn explains, twisting her wrist to try and pin Shelby’s thumb. “You have to take us to school.”

Martha’s groan is cut off by Shelby. “I’m happy to drop them off on my way home.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Martha says.

“Nonsense,” Shelby waves the protest away, “I’m happy to do it.”

“You’re an angel,” Martha gives her a grateful smile. Shelby smiles back, the perfect picture of a southern belle, gracious and humble.

Toni can’t decide if that pisses her off, or kind of turns her on.

The two young girls run upstairs to finish getting ready, chattering excitedly about riding in Shelby’s fancy car. Martha follows them, ready to kick their asses into gear if they dally.

That leaves Toni alone with Shelby.

It feels different, in the daytime. There’s something about the night that had felt safe, had made Toni feel like whatever happened, they were untouchable. But now, sunlight dancing off Shelby’s hair and the coursing of caffeine through her system, Toni can feel the fluttering of unease in her gut.

“You’re quiet in the mornings,” Shelby remarks, gathering up the dishes from the table.

“Slow starter,” Toni explains. She watches as Shelby looks around the kitchen, and smirks. “No dishwasher here, Scarlet O’Hara, you’ll have to roll up your sleeves.”

“I’ll have you know,” Shelby says, turning on the tap, “that I used to wash dishes for my church’s ‘out of the cold’ meals every Saturday night until I was big enough to serve the food up myself.”

Toni lets out a low whistle. “Didn’t realise I was in the presence of a real working-class hero.”

“Slow starter, but still snarky,” Shelby comments. Toni shrugs and fails to fight the little smile that twists its way onto her lips.

“Hey, don’t let those kids be dicks to you,” she changes the subject, trying to bring her stupid heart back down to earth, “and _don’t_ let them touch your radio. They break everything they touch, it’s a fucking curse.”

“Oh, I’ve got siblings of my own,” Shelby says, and Toni has to bite her tongue against saying something like ‘yeah, I know, I served them their shitty Arby’s salads’, “I just make them sit in the back where they can’t reach anything.”

Toni snorts, watching Shelby wash the dishes. Part of her wants to go over and put her hand on Shelby’s arm, to try and re-establish that possibility of connection that they had made last night.

The other part of her wants to run for the fucking hills.

She finds a happy medium, draining the last dregs of coffee from her mug and walking it over to the sink. Leaning past Shelby, she puts it beside the sink. She feels more than hears the sharp intake of breath that catches in Shelby’s chest.

“Thanks,” she mumbles.

Shelby’s hand catches her wrist, wet and soapy. Toni freezes, her heart kicking against her ribs.

“Toni, I,” Shelby’s voice breaks, “I don’t know how to -”

“Shelby, it’s cool,” she interrupts, sliding her wrist through Shelby’s hand until their fingers link together, “really.”

“I don’t want you to think I didn’t,” and her voice drops off again, her teeth digging into her bottom lip for a second, “because I did. I do.” Her head tilts as she finds this crooked smile, and Toni’s heart skips a beat. Shelby leans in a little closer, their foreheads finding each other and resting there.

Toni feels hyper-aware of the coffee and morning that’s on her breath, and she purses her lips shut, breathing heavily through her nose. Her eyes drift shut.

There’s the slightest brush of lips on hers, and it sets every inch of her body on fire.

Stomping footsteps jolt them apart, and Toni knocks into the counter behind her. She rubs at her back, wincing at the sharp pain. She looks at Shelby, heart squeezing at the fear she sees set in wide eyes. Toni watches her grab the nearby tea towel and dry her hands, folding it carefully and setting it down on the counter.

“I should go,” Shelby mumbles, and she steps past Toni.

“Yeah,” Toni clears her throat and nods. “I’ll finish these up.”

Shelby pauses in the kitchen’s doorway, her hand resting on the frame. “Toni?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

_vii._

It’s been a week since then. Since that night, that morning, that moment in time when Toni believed that maybe something good was about to happen. She had gone up to Martha’s room later that morning and found her sweater neatly folded, her bed made up impeccably. Grabbing the sweater and flopping onto her mattress, Toni had inhaled the perfume that clung to her sheets and the neck of the sweater.

She felt like a fourteen-year-old, sniffing the sweater her crush had worn and pretending they were still there, wrapped in the material and her arms.

A week later, she had tossed it all in the laundry.

Martha had noticed something was off, giving Toni lots of space. Toni felt bad, stomping about the Blackburn house like a petulant child, but every time her phone went off and it _wasn’t_ Shelby, she felt this deep, empty ache in her gut.

Feeling sad is so much worse than feeling angry.

She takes it out at work, her table-side manner even worse. After a few days of it, her manager fires her, claiming she doesn’t have the ‘Arby’s spirit’. Toni calls him a motherfucker and throws her apron on the ground, flipping a table as she storms out.

It keeps her up at night, the wondering and the worry, and the self-pity.

On a clear night, unable to find sleep, Toni grabs the basketball from the front hall and makes her way to the community centre. The court they have outside is pretty derelict, one of the baskets missing its netting, the painted lines chipped and wearing away.

The backboard rattles as she bounces shots into the net. The rhythm of it lets her focus, putting all of her energy into getting the ball through the hoop.

 _This is what you get for liking a white girl,_ she thinks to herself as the ball bounces off the rim. _Total fucking misery_.

Her phone chimes in her pocket. Toni watches the ball bounce down the court, pulling out her phone and turning the screen on.

It’s an unsaved number with a non-Minnesotan area code. Toni’s heart backflips.

_Hey, are you up right now?_

The hot ball of anger in her chest wants to ignore the text, delete it, throw her phone on the ground, and walk away.

The pit in her stomach taps out the reply.

_yeah wassup_

She fetches her ball as she waits for an answer, keeping her phone open to the conversation and waiting. The three little dots pop up, and Toni stares at them with bated breath.

_Can’t sleep. Are you hungry?_

“Am I hungry?” Toni mumbles. She shrugs and answers in the affirmative, tapping the toe of her shoe against the concrete. Shelby asks where to pick her up, and Toni drops her the location.

She sits and waits outside the fenced in court, bouncing the ball between her legs. Now that she’s sitting still, the night feels cold and she regrets not having worn a thicker sweater.

Headlights shine down the street fifteen minutes later. She recognises Shelby’s car, the shiny white paint reflecting the yellow streetlamps. Toni hops off the ledge she’s sat on, tucking the ball under her arm. Shelby rolls down her window, a tentative smile on her lips.

“Uber for Toni?”

Toni snorts at that, biting back the wide smile that threatens to break through. She walks to the passenger door and climbs in, dropping the ball between her feet. There’s something soft playing on the radio.

“Hey,” and Shelby’s voice is soft, like she’s trying not to scare Toni away.

“Hey.” Toni pulls her seatbelt on and turns her head, running her eyes over Shelby’s face. “Where to?”

“I thought we could, like,” Shelby’s never sounded so nervous, and Toni’s heart aches to put her at ease, “go for a drive first?”

Toni nods, “Yeah, that sounds okay.”

Shelby puts the car into drive and they start off down the street. Toni watches her as she drives, her back held perfectly straight, her hands held at exactly ten and two. It’s like her every movement is meant to show perfection, to never display any sense of a lack of control.

Toni can still see it, though. It looks familiar, that barely contained _something_. For Toni, it’s anger, always sitting right under her skin and just waiting to explode.

Now that she knows what it is that Shelby keeps just inside, it’s a lot harder to hate her.

They take a road out of town, and Toni cracks a joke about Shelby taking her somewhere to murder her. Shelby smirks at that, looking away from the road for only a second to raise her eyebrow in a teasing, cocky way.

Shelby takes a turn into a small town. It’s little more than a main street and a few stores. At the end of the street, Toni sees the neon sign of a diner.

“Did you drive me all the way out here just to eat at some small-town diner?” She asks.

“I’ve heard it’s got good fries,” Shelby defends.

Toni wants to call her out, to say that she _knows_ Shelby brought them all the way here to avoid the possibility of any familiar eyes seeing them together. The twist that it puts into her stomach is hard to decipher, something between pissed and nervous for what that means.

Stepping into the diner is like stepping back in time. There’s some old country song on the radio, and the vinyl covering on the booth bench creaks under their weight. A few truckers sit at the counter, not paying the two girls any mind. They order some fries, the waitress looking annoyed at their presence and small appetites.

The fries smell delicious, but Toni’s stomach feels too twisted to eat. She picks up a fry and pops it in her mouth, and it _is_ really fucking good, but as soon as she swallows it, she thinks she might throw up.

Shelby doesn’t look much better off. 

“I thought you were hungry,” Toni says.

“I thought _you_ were hungry.” Shelby says it like a challenge, but her eyes are stuck on the mountain of potatoes in front of them.

“Shelby,” Toni sighs, “what do you want?”

Shelby’s eyes widen, and she shrugs. “Who says I have to want something?” Her fingers fiddle with the cross that hangs around her neck.

“You literally drove us to another town,” Toni points out, “to get some fries. As if there aren’t like, ten places we could’ve gone that are way closer.”

“Maybe I just really like these fries,” Shelby mumbles. She shoots a furtive glance around the room, and Toni waves down the waitress.

“Can we get a box or something for these? My friend realised she has a test early tomorrow.” The lie slips from her lips like honey. Shelby watches her, confused, and Toni shrugs. “Fries taste better outside.”

They take the food and Toni tells Shelby to drive out of town. It feels like the beginning of every shitty horror movie, two girls driving around in the middle of the night, trying to find somewhere to park their car.

Most horror movies start with some making out, too, but Toni is too nervous to think that _that_ could happen.

Shelby finds a highway overlook, just a cleared patch of dirt on the side of the road. A river flows at the foot of the sloped earth, and they sit beside each other on the hood of Shelby’s car, listening to it flow. Toni can feel the heat from Shelby’s arm through the two inches between them. Their hands are only a finger’s width apart, Shelby’s pinky twitching as if she wants to reach out.

“What are you thinking right now?” Toni asks. She gathers all her courage for that one question, reminded of a similar conversation years ago, sitting with another girl on a different car.

Shelby shakes her head, tuck her chin into her chest. “I’m trying to understand why God brought me to you.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Toni says, “but it wasn’t god that brought us together. It was Martha.” She smiles, wry and pleased with herself. Shelby doesn’t return it, just pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. Toni sighs and leans over, bumping their shoulders together. “Hey, I’m sorry. Stupid joke.”

“No, it was funny,” Shelby says, and she turns her head, resting her ear on her knees and staring at Toni. Toni swallows and holds her gaze, finding the ever-elusive patience that lives deep inside her. Lips twitching into half of a smile, Shelby sighs. “I don’t know what to do with you, Toni.”

There’s a shot of heat to Toni’s gut, and she hopes it isn’t reflected in the warmth of her cheeks. “I mean,” and she licks her lips, “you don’t have to do anything with me. If you don’t want to.”

“That’s the thing,” Shelby says, and her accent slips, “I want to.” Shelby lifts her head and reaches out a tentative hand, gently running her fingers down Toni’s ponytail. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

Toni leans her cheek against Shelby’s hand as it draws back. “I think it might be worth it,” she says with as much resolve as she can find, “for something that could be good.”

And it’s hard to explain, why she suddenly feels this sense of calm, this steady desire to try. She tries to blame it on the way her body aches to feel Shelby’s lips again, to press against her and find every scar, every bump, to paint a roadmap across her curves and dips. She can pretend it’s just that, just the physical desire that feels like an all-consuming fire the longer they sit together.

When Shelby’s lips fit against hers this time, tender and unsure, Toni melts into it. She follows the small movements of Shelby’s lips, the press and release. Her hand reaches up and fingertips trace the line of Shelby’s jaw, resting there gently.

They break apart, their foreheads pressed together, noses bumping as they both hesitate to initiate the next kiss.

“Are you sure?” Toni’s heart races at what the answer might be.

Shelby’s fingers slip into the hair at the back of Toni’s head and pull her forward, lips parting as they kiss again, heavier and firmer. Toni sighs through her nose, the tip of Shelby’s tongue delicate against her bottom lip. Toni cracks her mouth open, cupping Shelby’s face and angling her head.

The press of their tongues sends a wave through Toni’s body, and she can feel it in Shelby’s body, too. Shelby’s knees lower, and she reaches out with her other hand to grip Toni’s waist, pulling her closer. Toni presses a hand to Shelby’s hip, thumb slipping under the soft fabric of her sweater and pressing against warm skin.

They break for air, thick breaths mingling between them. Shelby rubs the side of her nose against Toni’s, nodding. “I’m sure.”

Breathless, Toni runs her thumb across Shelby’s cheekbone. They make eye contact, just for a second, and then Toni is kissing her, pressing as close to her as she can get. Shelby whines into her mouth, fingers digging into Toni’s side, fisting the material of her sweatshirt.

Toni doesn’t know what it means, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen when Shelby drives her home. But right now, with the heavy warmth of Shelby’s tongue pressing against hers, her skin soft under Toni’s touch, Toni doesn’t give a shit about not knowing.

Answers will come later. For now, she loses herself in the taste of Shelby’s lips, eyes shut to the world around them.

_viii_.

Toni hates coming onto the college campus. Its full of people who think they’re better than everyone else, learning shit that they think is more important than everything else.

But, when Martha forgot her _entire fucking laptop_ this morning, Toni had begrudgingly agreed to bring it by for her. So, she’d hopped on the bus and made the forty-five-minute ride, earbuds stuffed into her ears and blasting music over the sound of the engine, studying the campus map to make sure she knows how to find the library.

Turns out, it’s pretty hard to miss. It’s a tall building, with floor to ceiling windows that reflect the sunlight directly into her eyes. Toni squints against it, gripping the straps of her backpack as she jogs up the steps. She dodges around a few students who have their noses in their phones, not paying any mind to the people around them. Toni hoists herself up onto the concrete ledge that surrounds the empty flower beds, tapping out a quick text to Martha, letting her know she’s here.

She scrolls through her socials for a bit, music still blaring in her ears. Her heels bounce off the wall behind them, keeping time with the beat.

A hand on her shoulder nearly makes her piss her pants.

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ!” She exclaims, ripping her earbuds out and following the denim clad arm up to Shelby’s face.

“Just me, actually.”

Toni snorts and pauses her music. “Pretty funny, church girl.” Shelby hops up beside her, their arms brushing together. Toni’s gut flips at the smell of Shelby’s perfume, painfully reminded of the last time they were sitting this close.

“What are you doing here?” Shelby asks.

“Marty forgot her laptop,” Toni explains, “and since I’m not busy with a job anymore, I get to play gopher.”

“That’s sweet of you.” Shelby’s fingers twitch where they rest beside Toni’s.

“Um,” and Toni clears her throat, trying to swallow down how awkward she feels asking this next question, “how are you?”

The smile that Shelby gives her is warm and bright, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m real good.” Her tongue darts out and wets her lips, Toni’s eyes catching and hanging on to the movement.

She thinks about all the texts they’ve exchanged since they last saw each other, playful and flirty, never anything serious or that could be considered deep. It felt like walking on thin ice, like if Toni stepped just a little too left, or dropped her foot a little too fast, the ice would crack and she’d drown in a sea of frigid, swirling water. When Shelby would text her something about being in bed, or how sweaty she was after a spin class, Toni couldn’t decipher if that was _flirting_ or just…whatever straight people do.

Except straight people don’t gay-panic and kiss the closest lesbian they can find.

So that convoluted everything.

“I was wondering, actually,” Shelby’s voice breaks into Toni’s thoughts and pulls her back, “if you would want to come to my place for dinner, sometime?”

Toni looks over at her, surprise written in the lines of her forehead. “Me?”

“Uh, yeah,” Shelby kind of laughs, but her eyes don’t meet Toni’s, “who else would I be talkin’ to?”

Toni gapes like a fish, trying to find an answer somewhere in her brain. As she’s about to try, the library doors fly open and spit Martha out in front of them.

Shelby hops down off the ledge so quickly, it feels like she was never there at all.

“Toni, you’re my hero!” Martha exclaims, leaping forward and wrapping her arms around Toni’s slight shoulders, squeezing her tightly.

“It’s no problem,” Toni says, patting Martha’s back and struggling for breath. “Too tight, Marty.”

Martha releases her and accepts the backpack that Toni holds out. Shelby stands to the side, hands clasped in front of her, looking around like she’s not sure where she fits in with this scenario. Martha hugs the backpack to her chest, and she finally seems to notice the blonde girl.

“Oh, hi Shelby,” Martha says, and Toni purses her lips as Martha looks between the two of them with curious eyes. Shelby smiles a greeting. “Are you heading inside? Nora, Rachel, and I have an extra seat at our table.”

Shelby seems a bit taken aback by the offer, and Toni realises that the Texan still thought all the girls hated her for what she said, like, two months ago. Something a little too close to pity, or empathy, twinges in Toni’s chest.

“That would be great,” Shelby says, words and eyes sincere, “thank you, Martha.” She looks at Toni, and she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

“I’m gonna head out,” Toni says, trying to save Shelby from floundering for some sort of weird parting words, “gotta pound the pavement and get my ass employed again.” She slides off the ledge and pulls Martha in for a half hug. “Have fun studying, nerds.”

“You got this, Toni,” Martha encourages with a smile and two thumbs up.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” Toni says to Shelby, and she shoves her hands in the pockets of her jacket before they do something stupid like reach out and touch the other girl’s arm, or tangle in her hair and drive their lips together.

“Yeah,” Shelby says, ducking her head a little, “good luck with the job hunting.” The smile she gives Toni is that small one, the one that feels private and quiet, but more intense than any beaming, pearly white show-smile.

Toni steps past her and gives them both one more little smile before pulling her hood up over her head and tucking her earbuds back in. She scrolls through her music and picks something that brings a fleeting smile to her lips. The soft music washes over her and calms the racing of her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to anyone who's already made it to 2021 - congratulations! to anyone, like me, who is still waiting on their timezone to get the fuck out of 2020 - we're so fucking close.
> 
> the response to this blew me away, and i'm so happy that so many others are hanging on to this lifeline of a hyper-fixation with me. 
> 
> stay healthy, stay safe, and happy fucking new year!


	3. ix - xi

_ix._

Unsurprisingly, Shelby lives in an apartment in the nicest part of town. It’s one of twelve units in this modern-looking building, and Toni can’t even begin to imagine how much it costs to rent. She stands outside, thumbs tucked under the straps of her backpack.

“So fucking stupid,” Toni mumbles to herself, “what are you _doing_ here?” She feels out of place just outside the building, in her dirty sneakers and patched-up jacket. Through the glass doors, she can see the lobby, with a doorman and a waterfall, and she shakes her head. “No fucking way.”

Her phone goes off.

_I can see you just staring at the door, weirdo._

Toni curses and shoves the phone back into her pocket. Steeling herself, she marches up to the doors and pushes.

Of course, it’s a fucking pull door.

Trying to hide her flush of embarrassment by ducking her head, Toni stands in front of the intercom and reads the instructions. She plugs in the buzz number that she had memorised, waiting as loud ringing fills the glass box of an entryway.

Shelby’s Texas twang comes through the speaker. “You managed to make it through those big scary doors, huh?”

“Fuck you, just let me in,” Toni growls back, “I think your doorman is about five seconds away from calling the cops.”

Shelby laughs, and a buzzer sounds, the door swinging open automatically. Toni steps through it and offers the doorman a ‘yeah, that’s right, I’m not here to rob anyone’ kind of glare. He just stares back at her like she’s a piece of gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe.

The elevator is fancier than anything Toni’s ever owned, lined with mirrors and wood paneling. She hits the right button and listens to the muzak as it rises painfully slowly. She walks down the carpeted hallway, heart pounding faster with every step she takes.

Her fist raps against the dark wood of Shelby’s door, and it opens almost immediately.

The first thing she notices is that Shelby looks really good. Like, unfairly good. And then Toni wonders if _she_ should have put more effort in, going beyond showering and rubbing a little extra deodorant down the centre of her chest to try and pass as perfume.

The second thing she notices is the pleasant smell coming from the apartment. For some reason she had expected to have to pony up fifteen bucks for an artisanal pizza, not to have Shelby actually cook her a full ass meal.

“C’mon in,” Shelby says, stepping aside and holding the door open for her. Toni steps in, the door swinging shut behind her as Shelby lets it go.

“I think your doorman thinks I’m here to murder you,” Toni says in lieu of a greeting. She dumps her bag on the ground and shrugs her way out of her jacket. Shelby holds out a hand and Toni stares at it.

“I can take your coat,” Shelby explains with a bit of a smirk. Toni blushes and shoves the jacket at her, moving on to slipping her feet out of her shoes. Shelby steps around her and opens a mirrored sliding door, revealing a tidy closet. Toni walks further into the apartment, looking around.

There’s somehow more and less Jesus related stuff than she had expected. A pretty wooden cross sits above the couch, the bookshelf in the corner boasting titles that almost exclusively have to do with religion in some form or another.

It’s a small blessing that there are no actual pictures of the J-man.

Toni will take what she can get.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Shelby says, and Toni turns to watch her move into the open-concept kitchen, “I had a bit of a fudge-up with the sauce, so I had to start again.”

“Do you, uh,” Toni runs a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her forehead, “can I help?”

Shelby holds up her phone and Toni walks over, taking it. “You want to put on some music?”

Nerves flutter and twist Toni’s stomach. Dinner, music, Shelby looking so frustratingly pretty…it’s all starting to feel a little too much like a date. And yet she feels this chasm between them, like she shouldn’t get closer than three feet to Shelby.

“Macklemore, right?” Toni teases.

“Or Jesus Jams,” Shelby joins in the joke, and Toni lifts her lips into a half smile.

“Maybe we’ll go with something I like tonight,” Toni says, flicking through Shelby’s music with an exaggerated grimace.

“Wait, let me guess,” Shelby says, tapping her finger to her lips, “it’s something loud. Not metal, though. Alternative rock? Dubstep?”

“Ha-ha,” Toni rolls her eyes and finds what she’s looking for. “Try again, asshole.”

Acoustic guitar filters through the speakers, and Shelby nods in surprise and approval. “I’m surprised,” she says, “I really had you pegged all wrong.”

“Yeah, well,” Toni puts the phone down on the counter and jams her hands into her pockets, “you and everyone else.”

Shelby hums and stirs the sauce, shaking salt over the pan. “Come here, let me know if this tastes okay.”

Toni walks over and stands stiffly beside her, unsure what to do. Shelby holds the spoon out to Toni, waiting. Toni wipes her finger against it, picking up some sauce and licking it off her skin.

“Yeah, tastes pretty good,” she says, feeling warm under the heavy weight of Shelby’s eyes. There’s the ghost of a hand against her waist, fingers curving just slightly around the bend of her bond.

It’s gone before she can register it.

“Alright, well,” Shelby steps back and turns off the stove, “do you mind grabbing some plates for us? They’re just up in the cupboard above the sink.” Toni follows the directions, grabbing the dishes and setting them by the stove.

“So, what are we eating?” Toni asks, watching as Shelby pulls the oven open and pulls out a tray of vegetables, perfectly roasted.

“It’s the Gookind family spaghetti,” Shelby explains, “but uh, spiced up a bit. Tomato sauce, vegetables, pasta, and cheese.” She tucks her hair behind her ears and starts serving the food up. “I add a bit of spice to the sauce, my daddy isn’t one for much uh, _exotic_ flavouring.”

Toni bites back the snarky comment about white people that sits on the edge of her teeth. She finds another one instead. “Is it bad if I say I was kind of hoping for some serious Texan-style barbecue?”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky next time.”

They eat in relative silence, making inane small talk about the food, the weather, anything that doesn’t bring them too close to talking about anything real. Anything difficult.

“So uh,” Toni sets her fork down next to her empty plate, “do you live here alone?”

Shelby shakes her head. “I’ve got a roommate. Well, kind of. She goes on a lot of different mission trips, so she’s only here about half the time.”

“Oh,” Toni grits her teeth.

“Not like,” Shelby starts, “like, _conversion_ missions or anything. Just uh, community service? Building homes and stuff. Helping out the poorer folks in different places.”

“Yeah,” Toni nods, “okay.”

Shelby sighs and stands, gathering up the dishes and taking them to the kitchen sink. Toni mumbles a curse under her breath and leans back in her chair. Over her shoulder, she watches Shelby scrub furiously at the plates.

“Hey,” Toni comes up behind her and tentatively puts her hand on her back, “you good?”

Shelby sighs and turns around, Toni’s hand falling back to her side. “I just don’t understand why you’re so set on hating everything about me.” She folds her arms across her chest. “I try to be a good person, the best way I know how. The way I have been taught, to serve _God_ through kindness and love, for everyone. And you just,” and she shakes her head, closing her eyes, “you _hate_ me for it.”

Her voice is shaky, and Toni wants to say something to contradict, to try and appease her, for whatever fucking reason. She wants to show her that she doesn’t hate her, that actually, even though she’s trying very hard to keep her head above water, Toni feels like she’s drowning in something that’s definitely not hate.

“I don’t hate you,” is the best she can come up with.

“Yes, you do,” Shelby insists, “and I know that us…that our…that what we did, I know that doesn’t matter, that it doesn’t erase anything. But I do,” and there’s a pause, where Shelby opens her eyes and takes this slow breath, her hand reaching out and finding Toni’s, “ _care_ about you.”

Toni swallows, trying to quell the nervous flips that her stomach is doing. Shelby’s skin is soft against hers, and Toni watches their fingers link together. She can smell Shelby’s perfume mixed with the lingering aromas of their meal, and the smell of dish soap from the sink behind her.

“Me too,” Toni says, half her voice caught in her throat, “even if it doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

Shelby chuckles at that, and then she’s leaning forward, and their noses slide against each other as their lips slot together.

Toni inhales sharply through her nose as she feels the length of Shelby’s body press against her own. She feels Shelby’s hands slide up her arms and cradle her face, thumbs brushing against her earlobes as she secures her hold.

Slowly, Toni presses her tongue against Shelby’s lips, slipping it into her mouth as they part. She tastes like tomato sauce, and it’s not as disgusting as it should be. Toni feels herself groan just a little, losing herself in the warmth of Shelby’s mouth.

They part for a breath, Toni’s tongue tracing a line on the roof of Shelby’s mouth as they pull back. She opens her eyes and finds Shelby’s already staring at her, pupils blown wide. Toni doesn’t waste time thinking, she just presses forward and takes Shelby’s bottom lip between her own and gently biting into the soft flesh, soothing it with her tongue. Shelby’s hands tighten in her hair, tilting her head and deepening the kiss.

They stand there, making out in Shelby’s kitchen for what could have been seconds or hours. The sounds of small whimpers and heavy breathing take up the air between them, wandering hands sliding under clothes to get just an idea of what lies beneath.

“Couch,” is the only thing Shelby says, gripping Toni’s hips and steering her as she kisses down her neck. They bump into a chair, but Shelby presses on. The backs of Toni’s knees hit the couch, and their hands fall away for a second.

And then Shelby is on top of her, in her lap, and Toni thinks that if there is a heaven, this must be it.

_x._

She wakes up on Shelby’s couch for the sixth time in two weeks. Stretching and yawning, she slowly sits upright and rubs the sleep from her eyes, pulling the throw blanket over her shoulders.

It had become a bit of a habit, staying too late at Shelby’s place to walk home, and then subsequently passing out on her surprisingly comfortable couch. Toni doesn’t hate it; Shelby’s an early riser and is often on her way out as Toni is waking up. They’ll exchange awkward greetings, like they hadn’t just spent the whole night talking and kissing on that very same couch. Shelby will press a protein bar into Toni’s hands as they step through her door, and they’ll have this moment of awkwardness about how to say goodbye – Toni with her unbrushed teeth, and Shelby with all her internalised fears.

One morning, they actually shook hands. Like they were closing a fucking business deal.

But this morning, the sixth morning, Toni wakes up and smells coffee and eggs cooking. She blinks against the grey light of the morning and drags her eyes over the apartment.

Shelby is in the kitchen, standing at the stove and stirring a pan of something. Toni looks her over, looks at the messy bun that sits precariously on the top of her head, looks at the long legs that are sticking out of silky pyjama shorts.

“Mornin’,” Toni calls out, running her hands through her bedhead and trying to save it from the unfortunate amount of flattening it underwent in the night.

Shelby looks over her shoulder and gives Toni this smile, all-too-bright for first thing in the morning. “Morning, sunshine,” she says, and Toni hates the little flip her heart does at the gentle way Shelby’s accent frames the words.

“What are you making?” Toni gets up from the couch and shuffles her way over to the kitchen, sniffing the air like a bloodhound on the trail. She stops a foot short of Shelby, and there’s a strong pull she feels to just drape her body onto the smooth, tan shoulders that are exposed in a matching pyjama top that on anyone else, Toni would find totally fucking ridiculous.

Shelby just makes it look perfect.

“Omelette,” Shelby says, “I didn’t know what you liked, but I also made coffee.” She points the spatula at a steaming French press.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Toni mumbles. She takes the mug that’s been set out for her and fills it up, breathing the aroma in deeply. It burns her tongue as she takes the first sip.

Shelby watches her with this little half-smile, and Toni holds her gaze. “Is it alright?”

“Fucking heavenly, honestly.” That makes Shelby laugh, and Toni holds that victory in her chest. Her attention turns back to the food, and Toni watches as the other girl flips the omelette perfectly. “Very pro.”

“Why thank you,” Shelby says with a little curtsy, “it’s one of my many talents.” The omelette is cut into two pieces and put onto plates. Shelby grabs them and Toni follows her to the table, taking the seat that’s somehow starting to feel like _hers_.

“Do you not have class today?” Toni asks through a mouthful of egg.

“Toni, it’s Saturday,” Shelby points out.

“Oh.” She swallows her bite and shrugs. “Who knew.”

It all feels unrealistically domestic, sitting at Shelby’s table first thing in the morning and eating breakfast together. They clear the table and Toni offers to wash the dishes while Shelby showers, and she realises, with a bit of a nervous tingle in her spine, that she knows where all the dishes are kept and where the extra dish towels are. She knows that Shelby prefers storing the mugs upside down in the cupboard, and that the cutlery has to be lined up nicely in the drawer, not just tossed into its compartments haphazardly.

Toni realises this and has to take a deep breath. Down the hall, she can hear the shower running, and Shelby’s voice carries over the sound of the water as she sings some tune Toni can’t identify. She takes a seat on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her as she listens. The words are unclear, but the timbre of Shelby’s voice makes her chest feel warmer with each passing second.

 _I’m so fucking screwed_.

The water shuts off. Toni hears the door open, and the smell of Shelby’s soap, or shampoo, or whatever, drifts through the apartment on the escaping steam. Unbidden, she feels herself take a deep inhale, drawing the smell right into her lungs, trying to hold it there for as long as she can.

“Toni?”

Toni’s eyes snap open. When the fuck had she closed her eyes?

Shelby’s standing in front of her, wrapped in a towel, and Toni watches the rivulets of water that run down her neck and shoulders, disappearing underneath that towel.

“Uh,” her mouth feels dry, “sorry, what?”

“I just said that I left a toothbrush in the bathroom for you,” Shelby says, her eyebrow lifting quizzically. “Everything okay?”

Toni swallows, nodding. “Yeah, totally. Just uh, still a bit tired.” She gets to her feet and forces a casual, close-lipped smile onto her face. “Thanks.”

“I’m just gonna,” and Shelby nods behind her, “finish getting ready.” Toni nods again, wishing she could find anything to say, but the expanse of bare shoulders Shelby exposes as she walks away is too many different levels of distracting. So, instead, she just slides into the bathroom and tries not to slam the door too hard.

Her phone goes off as she’s halfway through brushing her teeth. She fumbles with it as she pulls it from her pocket, nearly dropping it in the toothpaste and spit-filled sink. It’s a text from Martha, with three simple letters and a location not too far from her house.

_SOS_

Toni curses, spitting out the mouthful of mint and quickly rinsing. She leaves the toothbrush on the counter, the head hanging over the side of the white ceramic sink.

Her fist bangs against Shelby’s bedroom door. “Shelby?”

“C’mon in,” is the answer. Toni doesn’t think twice, her thoughts singularly focused on getting to Martha as soon as possible.

And then they’re split pretty evenly with just how badly she wants to walk right up to the blonde girl across the room, push her up against the wall, and touch her everywhere she can reach.

“What’s up?” Shelby asks. Toni takes her in for a moment, the dark leggings that contour her legs, the stretch of skin between the waistband and the bottom of the obnoxiously pink sports bra. Her hair is dry, her hands running a straightener over it with a deft precision that can only come from years of practice.

Their eyes lock in the mirror that Shelby’s sitting in front of, and Toni tries to will away the heavy heat that sits low in her abdomen.

“Martha just texted me,” Toni says, clearing her throat a little, hoping that her voice doesn’t sound as strained as it feels. “An SOS text. I need to head out.”

“Is everything alright?” Shelby’s on her feet, her hair half-straightened and hanging around her face in this uneven way that could have been comical if Toni wasn’t feeling such a confusing combination of concerned and horny.

“I don’t know,” Toni says, “it could be anything. But I should get going, just in case.” She thinks of the time Martha used an SOS text to get Toni downstairs to help her get a wasp out of the kitchen. And then she thinks of the time that the SOS text led to her finding Martha lying under the monkey bars with a broken wrist.

“I’ll drive,” Shelby says, and before Toni can put up a fight, she’s holding up a finger to shush her. “Just give me a minute, I need to deal with my mess of a hairdo.” Toni nods, and she watches Shelby flip her hair upside down, gathering it all up and twisting it up on top of her head. A few shorter strands escape, framing her face.

Toni doesn’t know how her brain makes the decision to stride over to Shelby and grab her face, dragging her lips down to meet hers, but it does. Shelby squeaks in surprise, but her hands grip at Toni’s hips with a desperation matched by Toni’s lips. It’s hot, open-mouthed, different than their usual kisses. Toni hasn’t tried taking the lead like this with Shelby, set on letting the other girl set their pace and being happy to follow along.

But the way Shelby’s chest lifts with heavy breaths when they pull apart, their foreheads pressed together and an undeniable ache in Toni’s gut, it all makes Toni think she should have taken charge a long time ago.

“What was that for?” Shelby asks, breathy in a way that has Toni barely able to hold back from pushing her onto the bed that’s _right there_.

“Nothing,” Toni mumbles, “just,” and her hands slide down Shelby’s neck, tracing the line of her shoulders and tucking her index fingers under the straps of the stupid, pink sports bra, “you.”

Shelby’s cheeks flush to match that horrible, pink sports bra, and Toni pulls her hands away, stepping back.

“I’m gonna go wait by the door,” she says, backing out of the room. Shelby’s eyes are on her with an intense darkness, and Toni has to turn away.

The ache inside of her screams at her to go back into that room, to let herself feel every inch of skin she can see, to push away that stupid pink fabric until she can find out what’s underneath and stake her claim.

But the three letters in that text mean more to her than anything else.

-

Shelby seems anxious on the drive over, her fingers tapping the steering wheel incessantly. It’s contagious, and Toni’s leg starts bouncing on the way over. She does her best to keep her thoughts from racing, distracting herself with studying the slope of Shelby’s nose, the dips at the base of her neck. Anything to pull herself out of a spiral of anxiety and worry over whatever might have happened the Martha.

“We should probably come up with a reason,” Shelby says, breaking the silence, “for why I’m the one dropping you off.”

It feels like a bucket of ice water, washing off any fucking pretenses Toni had been holding on to about the morning.

Somehow, it also settles her.

Before, for all the late nights and awkward mornings, Toni had felt unsettled, unsure. There was that overhanging question, looming in the corner of every conversation and every glance. Every touch and every kiss was laced with the taste of uncertainty.

With that one statement, Shelby washed away all that uncertainty. Toni felt clarity spread over them like a balm. Knowing where she stands feels better than not knowing; even if she’s standing deep in the shadows of Shelby’s shame.

“Whatever you want to say,” Toni pushes her lips into a close-lipped smile, “I’ll co-sign.”

Shelby looks over at her like she doesn’t believe what she’s hearing. “Really?”

“Yeah, Shelby,” Toni nods and laughs a bit, “really.”

Eyebrows furrowed, Shelby turns her gaze back to the road. Toni leans her head against the window, letting it bump and shake along with the ride. The GPS directs them to the location Martha had sent Toni, about a ten-minute walk from the Blackburn house, a neighbourhood Toni feels way too conspicuous in Shelby’s shiny car in the middle of the day.

It’s not that it’s dangerous, where they live, but it’s definitely not the kind of place a BMW, or an Audi, or whatever fancy fucking car this is, would be considered a regular sight by any means.

Toni sees Martha standing by the culvert, and she’s out of the car as soon as Shelby throws in into park. A few guys are loitering nearby, smoking a heavy cloud of tobacco into the air.

“Marty!” Toni calls out and runs over. She wraps her friend in a quick hug and then giving her a once-over. “Are you okay? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was out for a walk,” Martha says, “you know, just getting some space, and then I heard them Toni. I think they’re too small to find their own way out.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Toni follows Martha to the mouth of the culvert, crouching down beside her. Martha turns on the flashlight on her phone, and deep down the metal tube, Toni sees a few tiny shapes.

“I think there are three,” Martha says, “but I can’t fit far enough down to grab them.”

Shelby’s voice comes from behind them. “What are we lookin’ at?”

“Puppies.”

Toni groans. “Marty, we can’t take home _three_ fucking puppies. Your mom is going to kill us.”

“We can’t just leave them here, Toni!” Martha gapes at her, “they’ll die!” She turns her own puppy-like eyes on Shelby, who in turn looks at Toni.

“No,” Toni says, “no fucking way.”

“You’re the smallest,” Shelby points out.

Toni shakes her head. “I’m not crawling in that nasty-ass pipe.”

“Do you want the lives of three tiny, defenseless, innocent, helpless -”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Toni groans, “fine, I’ll get them. But one of you is buying me breakfast after this.”

She slips out of her jacket and hands it off to Martha. The metal of the pipe is rough and cold, and inch of two of water stagnating between the ridges. It smells dank and musty, the air inside colder than outside. Small streams of light pour in over her shoulders.

“Do you see them?” Martha’s voice echoes off the walls of the pipe.

Toni crawls forward on her elbows, squinting into the darkness. She can feel the water soaking into her jeans and shirt. The knee of her jeans catches on something, and Toni tugs her leg until she feels the fabric tear.

“Of fucking course,” she grumbles.

“Everythin’ alright?” Shelby’s voice sounds otherworldly in the cannister of the pipe, and Toni responds affirmatively.

She crawls another few inches, and then she sees them. Three little bundles of dark fur, weakly crawling around in the dirty water. Toni reaches a hand out and gently grabs one by the scruff of its neck, tucking it up against her as she repeated the process with the other two puppies.

“Alright,” Toni mumbles, “it’s okay. I’ve got you now.” The puppies make these soft whining noises. “Yeah, that’s right. We’ll get you somewhere safe, and warm, and dry.”

The backwards crawl is slow and awkward, wrangling three puppies and herself through the narrow tunnel, and Toni can feel the snags and pulls on her clothes and skin. Once her feet feel the warmer air of the exit, she also feels hands grab at her ankles and help pull her free.

Toni passes a puppy to each other girl, holding hers with one hand while she looks at the mess of dirt and filthy water that is now smeared down her front.

“Oh, they’re so cute,” Martha squeals.

The smile on her face is all the reward Toni needs.

“They really are.” Shelby catches Toni’s eye and smiles softly.

Well, that reward isn’t so bad either.

_xi._

Martha never asks why Shelby dropped Toni off that day. It could be because she was too busy thinking about saving the puppies, or maybe she just didn’t give a shit.

Either way, Toni’s thankful for it.

The puppies, as it shocked no one to find out, are a fucking handful. They’re scrawny and underfed, but after a week of what felt like constant feeding, they’re starting to grow and show their own personalities. And they’re starting to become real pains in the ass, if you were to ask Toni’s opinion. And if you asked the two dogs the Blackburn family already had, who seemed even more exasperated by puppy antics than Toni.

Bernice had sort of accepted their presence with a resigned attitude, knowing that Martha wasn’t going to make it easy to try and give them up. The younger girls had fallen in love with them immediately, coming up with new names for them every day. Martha’s dad, who wasn’t home much to begin with, had come home one evening to a living room full of excited kids and excited puppies, and promptly gotten himself a beer from the fridge.

He’d gotten one for Toni, too.

Toni had been sending daily pictures of the puppies to Shelby, per her request. Shelby’s favourite game was to try and guess what kind of dogs they were. They were probably just mutts, but Toni enjoyed the enthusiastic and increasingly exotic answers that Shelby would send back.

_Labrador._

_Some sort of shepherd._

_Doberman!_

_Bernese Mountain Dog, definitely._

_Hellhound?_

By the time the puppies were fully aware, rambunctious, and impossible to keep track of, the Blackburn’s were heading out on to make their annual trip down to visit Martha’s aunt and uncle for a long weekend. Toni was, as usual, left behind to take care of the house and the dogs.

The five dogs.

 _Five_.

She saw them off late on Thursday night, and it felt like chaos erupted as soon as the van had gone around the corner. The puppies were all over her, trying to curry enough favour to get extra food. They cried when she put them in their crate, so loud she could hear them from upstairs.

She lies on Martha’s bed, fitted with clean sheets so Toni could enjoy the luxury of a real bed for once, with a pillow jammed over her head, trying desperately to block out the ear-splitting whimpers and howls.

Her phone buzzes.

_Otterhound?_

A little smile worms its way onto her lips.

_you really cant stop, can you_

_They’re adorable, Toni. And it’s fun!_

_is it?_

_Grump. What are you up to?_

_listening to the ‘adorable’ little fuckers scream at me. marty and her fam are out of town._

_Do you want some company?_

Shelby’s at the front door in under twenty minutes, as unfairly gorgeous as ever. Toni lets her in and shows her to the puppies. The little furballs jump at the bars of the crate, and Shelby coos at them, sticking her fingers through the caging and patting them, letting them lick her hands.

“They’re so cute I might actually cry,” Shelby says, and Toni hears the waver in her voice.

“Yeah, they’re way less cute at three am, when they’re crying their heads off.” Shelby looks at her over her shoulder and raises and eyebrow, challenging her. “But yeah, I guess they’re kind of cute.”

“Can I let them out? I think they just want to play.”

Toni shrugs, sitting back on the couch and lounging against the arm rest. “Go for it.”

She watches as Shelby opens the door and the puppies tumble out, falling over themselves to try and climb to reach her face, little pink tongues sticking out of black fur. Shelby’s laughter is like a strange music to Toni’s ears, her drawling rhythms soothing as she talks to the puppies in a gentle voice. Toni turns on the television, finding a basketball game and settling in.

It doesn’t take long for Shelby to tire the pups out. It’s already late, and no matter how hyper a puppy seems, they always crash hard. She carefully places them back in the crate and excuses herself to wash her hands. Toni doesn’t pay her much mind, eyes fixed on the Timberwolves setting up their offensive end.

A warmth against her side calls her attention from the game. Shelby is pressed up to her, taking her arm and looping her own through it. A head of perfectly straightened blonde hair tucks itself into the crook of Toni’s neck. Warm breath tickles the skin there.

“Did you want to watch something else?” Toni asks. “The T-wolves aren’t going to pull any miracles off tonight with their shitty passing.”

“Whatever you want is fine,” Shelby mumbles. Toni feels the cold tip of a nose against the side of her throat, followed by the soft press of lips.

“Or we could,” and Toni grabs the remote, pressing the power button with a shaky hand, “not watch something.”

“You’re so smart,” Shelby teases her, placing deliberate kisses up Toni’s neck and along the underside of her jaw.

“Not to brag,” Toni says, trying to keep her voice and breathing even, Shelby’s lips wreaking havoc on her mental stability, “but I _did_ graduate high school.”

Shelby snorts, pulling her head back and locking eyes with Toni. “You’re kind of a smart-ass, huh?”

“Are you just noticing this now?”

She doesn’t get a response. Shelby surges forward and takes her lips in a heady kiss, all languid tongues and parted lips. Toni’s hands search desperately for purchase, finding Shelby’s hips and digging in against soft skin and jutting bone. A hand slips into her hair, twisting in the dark curls and holding fast, tugging in a way Toni didn’t know she liked until now.

They shift slowly until Toni is laying on her back, the length of Shelby’s body pressing her into the couch. Every sense feels like it’s working overtime, processing the taste of Shelby’s tongue, the smell of her perfume, the weight of her body and the soft skin of her back where Toni has slipped her hands underneath her shirt. They both groan as Shelby’s hand follows suit, skimming over the warm skin of Toni’s abdomen, causing the muscles beneath to twitch at the light contact.

“Didn’t know you were ticklish,” Shelby breathes against Toni’s lips, repeating the movement. Toni squirms, the sensation on that borderline of uncomfortable and _way too fucking enjoyable_.

“I’m not.”

She feels Shelby’s lips turn up into a smirk, teeth scraping over Toni’s bottom lip and pulling. Toni moans, hands sliding lower until they’re tucked into the back pockets of Shelby’s jeans. She squeezes her hands and takes far too much pleasure from the squeak of surprise that escapes Shelby’s throat.

It turns into a breathy whine when Toni pushes Shelby’s ass down, their hips squaring together. Shelby grinds down, her lips growing more desperate against Toni’s as they press their bodies even closer together.

“Fuck,” Toni gasps, craning her neck upwards to chase Shelby’s lips. The girl above her leans back a bit, teeth clamping down on her own lip as she shuts her eyes. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink and the exposed skin of her collarbone warms to match. Toni drags her eyes over Shelby’s face, down her neck and down the loose fabric where her shirt hangs down, locking on to the curves that hide underneath some lacey black fabric.

“Toni,” and the sound of her name sends a jolt right between her legs, the timbre of Shelby’s voice something raw and rough, something she’s never really heard before, “will you take me upstairs?”

Her brain short-circuits at the question, running a million miles a minute. “Upstairs?”

Shelby opens her eyes, dark and piercing as they call Toni’s own back from their staring. Her tongue wets her lips, and she nods, “upstairs.”

They fumble their way off the couch, neither willing to let go of the other for too long. Shelby pushes Toni up against walls, hands roaming across the planes of her stomach, the bones in her shoulders. Toni kisses bruises into Shelby’s fair skin, tangling her fingers in that impossibly straight hair.

Halfway up the stairs, Shelby grips the bottom of Toni’s shirt and pulls it over her head. Toni watches her eyes roam freely over her body. Shelby stares for a few seconds, then she grabs the hem of her own shirt and tosses it aside.

They stand there, staring at each other in the dim lighting of the Blackburn’s staircase, Toni one step above Shelby, their height offset by a few inches.

“How did I never notice that you have your bellybutton pierced?” That’s what comes out of Toni’s mouth. She wants to slap herself across the face.

“Guess you just weren’t payin’ enough attention,” Shelby answers with a coy smile.

Toni smirks and drapes her arms over Shelby’s shoulders, pulling her closer until their noses bump. “Got anything other surprises I should know about?”

“Guess you’ll just have to find out.”

When they fall onto Martha’s bed, they lie next to each other, staring, waiting. Shelby reaches out and strokes the back of her hand down Toni’s cheek.

“You’re real beautiful,” Shelby mumbles. Her cheeks find a shade past pink, nearly hidden in the light that’s cast by the one lonely lamp on the bedside table.

Toni feels her own cheeks heat up. She doesn’t know what to say, so she just shuffles closer and props herself up on her elbow, leaning down and pushing Shelby’s shoulder until she’s leaning over the blonde, one hand cupping her cheek.

They kiss slow and sweet, until they don’t, and they’re both back to breathing raggedly, teeth and tongues clashing as they both try to take in as much as the other as possible. Hands cling to waists, ribs, arms, anything they can grab as they scrabble for purchase, for something to anchor themselves to before they both float away.

Toni feels fingers at the bottom of her sports bra. She opens her eyes and pulls back from the kiss, taking a shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry,” Shelby says, at the same time Toni goes, “Are you sure?”

They both let out nervous little laughs.

“I want to,” Shelby says, and there’s something in the shy way she flicks her gaze to the side before continuing that makes Toni feel like she’s going crazy, “if you want me to.”

“I really fucking do.” Toni hardly recognises her own voice, shaking with nervous excitement and an octave lower than usual. Fingers slide under the band and brush against soft skin. Shelby looks as nervous as Toni feels.

It’s not that she’s uncomfortable in her body by any means. She knows she’s got a fine body, maybe even a pretty good one, but there’s something about knowing that it’s Shelby underneath her, a girl who literally goes and gets judged on her physical appearance, a girl she knows spends an hour each morning just putting on her face for the outside world…well, there’s just a little extra pressure.

Shelby’s hands shake, frozen at the base of Toni’s bra.

“Here,” Toni sits up, her legs on either side of Shelby’s hips, “let me help.”

Her hands join Shelby’s, and together they lift the bra, up and over Toni’s head. It gets tossed aside, and Toni bites her lip.

“Lord,” is all Shelby says before her hands slide up and cup the contours of Toni’s chest. Her touch is inexperienced, nervous, but every movement makes Toni’s heart beat a little faster. She can feel the sticky heat between her legs growing, and her body moves without thought, gently rocking her hips, seeking friction against Shelby’s lower abdomen.

Shelby sits up, and she guides Toni’s hands to the clasp of her bra. Toni doesn’t hesitate, smirking a little as she easily undoes it with one hand.

“Pleased with yourself?” Shelby rolls her eyes.

Toni slides the straps of the bra down Shelby’s shoulders. “Aren’t you a little pleased with me, too?”

“Shut up.”

Toni laughs and shuffles forward in Shelby’s lap, until the bare skin of their breasts starts to touch. They both gasp a little when firm nipples brush together. Shelby presses her fingers into Toni’s back, trying to press her as close as possible.

“Toni,” Shelby mumbles, tilting her head and pressing quick kisses to waiting lips, “I want…I want you.”

“You can have me.”

It sounds cheesy and Toni wants to take it back as soon as it leaves her lips, but Shelby’s smile erases those feelings of insecurity.

“I’m a little nervous.”

“Me too.”

“It’s just that,” and Toni listens to the slow breath Shelby takes, “it’s my first time. Not just like, with a girl, but with…anybody.”

“Oh.” Toni hesitates, and she feels Shelby start to pull back. Hands fly to Shelby’s cheeks, pulling her back in and pressing a long, deep kiss into her lips. Toni slides their tongues together, inhaling sharply through her nose and drinking in every second of it.

She feels Shelby’s hips lift under her.

“Hey,” Toni says, resting their foreheads together and angling her head until Shelby opens her eyes and looks back at her. “I don’t care. I mean, I care about making sure this is okay, and that you’re okay, but I don’t care how many people you have or haven’t slept with.” She rubs the sides of their noses together, smiling when she feels Shelby return the gesture. “We don’t have to do anything more than this, okay? Whatever you want, I’m cool with it.”

“I want,” Shelby whispers, “to take the rest of your clothes off.”

Toni swallows. “Yeah?”

Shelby hums, sliding her hands down Toni’s sides and tucking her fingers into the elastic waistband of her sweatpants. Toni takes a deep breath, climbing off of Shelby’s lap and lying down beside her. Shelby follows suit, stretching out beside her and helping pull the grey fabric down her legs. The pants are kicked off, and Toni is left in nothing but her underwear.

Tentatively, Shelby runs a hand down Toni’s stomach and over her hips, tracing the divot beside each protruding bone with a reverence that makes Toni’s heart do flips behind her ribs.

“Could I,” and Toni holds her breath as Shelby asks the next question, her hand resting lightly on the cotton of Toni’s underwear, “could I take these off, too?”

Instead of answering, Toni raises her hips off the bed. Shelby hooks her fingers into the top of her underwear and pulls slowly, slowly, the dampened fabric finally cast off.

“You good?” Toni asks, watching Shelby’s face carefully, trying to keep her own insecurities behind a thick wall, focusing all her attention on making sure the other girl is alright.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Shelby trails her fingers on Toni’s thigh. “You’re the one in her birthday suit.” Toni’s legs fall apart on their own accord, trembling slightly under Shelby’s feather-light touch.

“It is a bit uneven,” Toni tries to tease, but her voice is so breathy that she has no idea how it’ll come across.

Apparently, it comes across just fine, because next thing she knows, Shelby is leaning back and unbuttoning her jeans, sliding them and her underwear down her legs in a swift movement. She kicks her legs a bit, finally freeing her ankles of the tight denim.

“There,” Shelby says, turning on her side and propping her head up on her hand, “fair.”

Toni’s mouth feels suddenly dry as she turns on her side and takes in the sight of Shelby’s naked body. She’d never considered tan lines much before, but now that she can trace all of them, the contrast of pale white and, well, still kind of pale but not quite white, skin tones is utterly intoxicating. Everything is perfectly manicured, even the hair between Shelby’s legs looks like someone put real effort into its appearance.

Toni wonders for a second if her own, untamed and casually groomed body is a disappointment to someone like Shelby, someone who strives so hard for perfection on her own body.

She takes the edge off with a joke. “I always knew that wasn’t your natural hair colour.”

Shelby laughs and smacks her on the arm. “You’re such an asshole!”

Toni breaks out into her own laughter, squeaking a little when Shelby grabs her and tries to pin her. They tussle for a moment, both of them breathless with their laughter.

It dies down when Shelby swallows it with a kiss, and their bodies finally come together with nothing between them. Breasts, stomachs, hips, thighs, all of it bare and touching, and Toni sighs with something like relief playing on her heart, like this is the thing that she’s been waiting for all along.

“Tell me what you want to do,” Shelby says. “You’re considerate, and you’re wonderful, but I need you to tell me. Because I don’t know what the _hell_ I’m doin’.”

Toni arranges them wordlessly, tucking a pillow beneath Shelby’s head and guiding her onto her back. She takes her time, exploring the nerves and nuances of Shelby’s breasts until she finds out what the other girl likes. Her fingers and her tongue work simultaneously, eyes watching Shelby’s face for any indication of pleasure – or otherwise.

Luckily, Shelby doesn’t seem too shy about just telling her what she likes, voicing her appreciation with words or just with loud moans.

It’s fucking thrilling.

Her hand slides down Shelby’s stomach, over the piercing that sits in her navel, and Toni pulls her mouth away from the soft skin of Shelby’s breast.

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

Shelby nods, already parting her thighs. Toni can feel the pulsing between her own legs, and she wants desperately to find some relief, but she focuses all her energy on the girl beside her.

“I’m just gonna start slow, okay? Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Shelby is slick with wet heat, and Toni’s finger slides easily along the length of her. She rubs her finger slowly, gently, taking her time and not pressing too hard. A groan slips from her own lips, and her forehead falls down against Shelby’s.

“Fuck, you feel good.”

Shelby whimpers, reaching a hand up and gripping a handful of Toni’s hair. “ _Shit_ , Toni.”

Toni pauses her movements as Shelby’s hips start to move, rocking against her finger. She lines another finger up beside the first, letting Shelby grind down against them. She feels impossibly wet, the rhythm of her hips matching the whimpering that leaves her lips.

“Can I,” and Toni’s voice falters, “can I go inside you?”

Shelby nods, and Toni slides her hand lower.

Her middle finger slips inside easily. Shelby cries out, high pitched and breathless, trying to press her hips further down. Toni shuts her eyes at the feeling, trying to catch her own breath as she experimentally crooks her finger forward.

The sudden cant of Shelby’s hips and the sharp tug at Toni’s hair is all the permission she needs to start finding a rhythm. It’s messy and uncoordinated at first, but soon they find a beat that works for them both. Toni leaves open-mouthed kisses at the corner of Shelby’s lips, the other girl too caught up to return them properly.

Toni presses the heel of her hand against Shelby’s clit. She pushes her finger in as deep as she can, and Shelby moans, loud and guttural. Toni begins carefully grinding her hand, following the reactions that Shelby gives her.

“I think I’m getting close,” Shelby gasps, her grip on Toni’s hair almost too tight. “Can you go back out, just work on my clit?”

Hearing the word ‘clit’ leave Shelby’s lips nearly sends Toni.

She holds it together just enough to follow the request. Shelby’s clit is swollen, and it takes Toni a few tries before Shelby is nodding her head and rolling her hips, gasping affirmatives into Toni’s ear. She carries on the same pattern, and it doesn’t take too long before Shelby’s back arches off the bed and heavy tremors shake her body. Her thighs clamp shut around Toni’s hand. Toni watches her face contort, lips parted and eyes squeezing shut, loud moaning breaking from her throat in an animalistic way.

Her body relaxes. Both of them are breathing heavily, and Toni gently pulls her hand back. A little aftershock shakes Shelby, and she opens her eyes to reveal dark pupils dilated in those hypnotic green eyes. Toni leans down and captures her lips in a kiss.

“That was,” Shelby chuckles and shakes her head, “wow.” She untangles her fingers from Toni’s hair and rests her hand at the back of her neck, stealing kisses from her with lazy lips, soft and pliant. “Way better than the jets in my bathtub back in Texas.”

“Jesus, Shelby,” Toni laughs, “you’re going to fucking kill me.”

Shelby smiles, lazy and accompanied by more kissing, the two girls falling into each other once again. That ache between her legs hasn’t left, and all Toni wants is to be touched by Shelby, to let her fumble and explore on the paths of her body.

Her silent plea doesn’t go unanswered. Shelby pushes until she’s lying on her side next to Toni, encouraging the other girl onto her back. Her hand snakes its way down Toni’s body, and a gasp leaves Shelby’s mouth as she slides her fingers through coarse hair and against the wetness that’s been growing between Toni’s legs.

Toni coaches her through it with breathless instruction, directing the speed and the angles. Shelby’s a fast learner, and Toni comes almost embarrassingly quickly.

The wide-eyed wonder that paints Shelby’s face is all she needs to throw any sense of embarrassment out the window.

“I feel like I could do that all night,” Shelby says, leaning down and coaxing Toni into a firm kiss. Her teeth nip Toni’s lower lip.

Toni thinks she might have figured out what heaven is supposed to feel like.

They lie there together for a while, hands now taking the time to explore slowly, with no intentions to push anyone over an edge. It’s strange, how Toni wants nothing more than to memorise each line of Shelby’s body, how she would spend hours just tracing each bump and bookmarking every freckle.

Eventually, they start to get cold, and Toni finds some clothes for Shelby, sending her off to have a quick shower. She dresses haphazardly and makes her way downstairs to find some food. A quick rummage in the freezer and six minutes in the microwave later, and she’s back upstairs with a plate of pizza pockets and two plastic bottle of Sunny D.

If it wasn’t for the sex, it would feel like any sleepover she’d ever had as a kid.

They trade places, Shelby clean and smelling like soap, Toni tossing clothes behind her as she makes her way to the shower. She rinses herself off quickly, nearly tripping over her own feet as she rushes to get back to Shelby.

“These are ridiculously good,” Shelby says through a mouthful, “like, they really shouldn’t be this good. They’re frickin’ terrible for you.”

“All the best shit is,” Toni points out. She pulls an old t-shirt over her head and steps into a ratty pair of boxers. “Have you never had one before?”

Shelby shakes her head, holding a hand in front of her mouth. “My dad is a real health nut, he never even let us have sugary cereal.”

“That sucks,” Toni says, sitting down beside her and grabbing a pizza pocket, “sugary cereal is the best. Otherwise, it’s just nasty, soggy grains.” Shelby rolls her eyes, and Toni grins. “Tell you what, tomorrow morning we’ll eat all the sugary cereal we can find. And I’ll even let you in on my hazelnut flavoured coffee creamer.”

“Ew,” Shelby laughs, and it’s this dorky laugh that Toni hasn’t heard before. It’s kind of ridiculous, hearing this donkey-like sound come out of such a proper person. But Toni just feels her heart swell.

 _You’re fucked_ , her brain jeers at her.

Shelby smiles, a bit of pepperoni stuck in her teeth, and Toni decides she couldn’t care less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so that was a monster of a chapter, and definitely the most smut i have ever written. and in the most detail. 
> 
> welcome to 2021, i guess?
> 
> for anyone who is feeling overwhelmed with everything that happened yesterday, mixed with all the other shit we've been put through, please feel like you can reach out either here, or over on my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/breezered). i take my role as emotional support canadian very seriously, and we can all use a little reminder that we're not alone in this ridiculous sequel to the hell-year. i'll probably do some [twitch streaming](https://www.twitch.tv/breezered) tomorrow, and throughout the week/weekend for anyone who just wants to watch anything that isn't the news, and just wants to watch me be terrible at whatever game i pick.
> 
> stay safe, stay sane, stay healthy.


	4. xii - xv

_xii_.

Toni needs to stop letting Martha talk her into hanging out with her friends.

To be fair, Shelby had also invited Toni along, but it would have been hard to explain to everyone why Toni was there if Martha hadn’t invited her.

Either way, Toni regrets agreeing to this with both of them.

It’s one of the nicer bars in town, with pumping music and flashing lights, over-priced drinks served by bartenders who are way too hot to be there, and of course, Toni’s least favourite thing, large groups of drunk girls all screaming and laughing.

She’s pretty sure that she’s already seen three different girls go into the bathroom crying.

Somehow, Fatin knows one of the owners, and she manages to get them a VIP booth. Toni thinks the idea of VIP booths is beyond ridiculous, just another way to oppress poor people, but she can’t deny that it’s nice to have this semi-private place to sit away from the wasted masses.

The night had started like any other night of debauchery and drink, with shots. Toni had grimaced her way through it, keeping an eye on Martha. That was going to be her job tonight, she had decided, as it was every day – she was going to look out for Martha no matter what.

Even if she can barely keep her eyes off of Shelby.

The blonde walks a line between propriety and impropriety with her outfit, showing off enough skin that it’s slowly driving Toni mad, but also keeping her good, Christian sensibilities about her. Maybe it’s that Toni doesn’t think she’s ever seen Shelby in black before, eschewing the pastels and colours of her usual outfits in favour of this new look.

It’s a good look.

Toni watches as Dot leans over and talks with Shelby, their heads bent low together at the other side of the round booth. She can’t hear what they’re saying, but she does sit back in surprise as Shelby nods and takes the shot that Fatin slides over to her.

Toni’s never seen Shelby drink before.

“I’d like to raise a glass,” Shelby says, holding up the shot, “to Leah, the reason we’re here. Happy birthday, girl!”

“It’s Leah’s birthday?” Toni leans over and mutters to Martha.

“I told you, that’s why we’re here,” Martha mumbles back. Toni frowns, having zero recollection of that conversation. “You should work on your listening skills.”

“Asshole.” They both chuckle and lift their own shots to their lips. The vodka burns, and Toni quickly chases it with the rum and coke in front of her.

“Way to go, Shelby!” Fatin cheers. Shelby’s got her lips pursed and her eyes shut, shaking her head. “Swallow, bitch!”

Shelby gasps as the shot goes down, snatching the colourful cocktail from Fatin’s fingers and taking a big drink.

“That is _vile_ ,” she says. “I don’t know how y’all have had so many.”

“We’re made of tougher stuff,” Toni says.

Shelby rolls her eyes, and there’s a second where something passes between them, Shelby’s acknowledgement of Toni’s joke, Toni’s eyes fixed on hers.

“Jesus,” Rachel says, staring into her drink and tilting her head.

 _They think you’re just a dick,_ Toni realises, _they probably all think you still hate Shelby_.

“It was a joke,” Toni snipes at Rachel, “maybe you should chill the fuck out.”

“Okay,” and Shelby intervenes now, a smile plastered on her face, “maybe we should all just take it down a notch.”

That stings, and Toni slumps back against the leather seat. She gets it, why Shelby isn’t going to defend her, but it hurts all the same. She cradles her drink against her shoulder and clenches her jaw. It’s petty and childish behaviour, pouting because her secret – fuck buddy? Friend with benefits? Girlfriend? – isn’t paying her the right kind of attention, but she’s had just enough to drink that ‘petty and childish’ is probably about to become her M.O.

The group moves on, pouring more shots from the bottle service and starting to play never have I ever.

Toni drinks along, listening to the inane and goofy things the others come up with. Never have I ever been to Europe, never have I ever had a threesome, never have I ever shat my pants as an adult, the usual shit.

When the gauntlet passes to Toni, she falls back on an old, reliable classic. “Never have I ever touched a dick.”

Everyone else drinks except Shelby and Martha.

“I’m so glad I’m not the only one,” Martha says, her voice soft and her cheeks a little pink, “I’d be so embarrassed.”

“Hey now,” Shelby says, reaching across the table and taking Martha’s hand, “there’s nothing embarrassing about being strong enough to abstain. That takes courage in today’s society.”

Toni chokes on her drink. She waves off Martha’s concerned looks, coughing and trying to forget that only forty-eight hours ago, she had been _very much not abstaining_ with Shelby in the backseat of her car.

Shelby’s eyes cut her like a knife.

That stops her laughter cold in its tracks.

“Unfair advantage to Toni,” Nora says, “is that going to be the basis of all your turns?”

Toni smirks. “Just trying to stay on brand, y’know?” Everyone laughs at the way she wiggles her eyebrows and sticks her tongue out between her teeth.

Everyone except Shelby. Shelby just pours herself another shot and knocks it back.

“Damn, Shelby,” Fatin nods appreciatively, “you’re full of surprises.”

“Whose turn is it?” Is all Shelby says, wiping a bit of alcohol from the corner of her lips. Toni tries to catch her eye. She looks everywhere but at Toni.

“I’m bored,” Leah says, “let’s go dance!” That gets a round of whoops from the other girls, and they start sliding out of the booth. Martha grabs Toni’s hand, and Toni squeezes back, unwilling to lose her in the crowd. They weave their way around tables and bodies, the thumping music getting louder with each step.

The eight girls take to the floor. Toni lets herself be swept up in their little circle, laughing as Fatin tries to twerk with her skinny ass, Nora showing off a surprisingly extensive knowledge of cheesy 80’s dance moves. Even Rachel, usually so sour and adverse to fun, cracks a few smiles and shows off some moves.

It takes all of her willpower to keep the pit in her stomach at bay. The pit that grows with every time she tries to catch Shelby’s eye, and the other girl purposefully looks away.

At least that means she was looking for a second.

As they dance, some of the girls get pulled away into the crowd, grinning as they find the hand of some tall guy. Toni rolls her eyes when Fatin turns and makes some very crude hand gestures behind some guy’s back, but she cheers her on with two thumbs up.

“I’m thirsty,” Toni says, leaning in to yell into Martha’s ear, “I’m gonna go get a drink. You want one?”

Martha shakes her head, laughing as Dot pulls her into a spin. Toni slips away through the throng of gyrating bodies. The bar is up a few steps, and as she tries to catch the attention of the bartender, Toni wishes vaguely that she was a scantily-clad straight girl, because they’re the only ones who seem to be getting any fucking service from the douche-looking bartender.

 _He probably calls himself a mixologist,_ Toni thinks to herself, gritting her teeth as he clearly looks at her and passes right over to the next skanky girl.

 _Okay, it’s not her fault. And she_ is _kind of hot._

“Hey!” A hand rests on Toni’s waist, and she whips around to shove whoever thought they could put their hands on her.

Of course it’s Shelby.

It’s always Shelby.

“Hi,” Toni says, stepping out of her reach.

Shelby looks at her with an unfairly confused crinkle in the middle of her forehead. “Everythin’ okay?”

“I don’t fucking know, Shelby,” Toni sighs, her voice just loud enough to carry over the music, “you tell me.” She leans over the bar and waves her hand again, slamming her fist down on the bartop when it still yields no results. “God _damn_ it!”

“Here,” and Shelby leans forward, putting on that big pageant smile, and the bartender walks right over.

Toni digs the blunt tips of her nails into the palm of her hands.

“Hi there,” and Shelby’s voice is sweet like honey, at a pitch Toni knows isn’t part of her natural cadence, “could I get two shots of tequila and a rum and coke for me and my friend here?”

The bartender starts on the drinks right away, and Toni scowls as Shelby leans back and turns the blinding smile to her. “I’ve never seen you drink before.”

“Well,” Shelby shrugs and fishes some bills out of the little purse on her wrist, “I’ve been into trying new things lately.” She winks.

“Right,” Toni says. She doesn’t know what to say to that, torn between calling Shelby out for being so fucking inconsistent tonight, or just keeping her mouth shut and shoving those feelings of rejection and anger right down. It’s not like she didn’t know what she was getting into when they started this; it’s been pretty fucking clear from the get-go that Shelby isn’t anywhere near accepting this part of herself outside of the closed doors of their bedrooms.

The shots and drink are placed in front of them, the bartender not bothering to hide the way his eyes rake over Shelby’s face and body.

That gets Toni’s blood boiling.

Shelby hands her one of the shots, waiting with her own glass held up. “Cheers?”

The glasses clink together, and Toni knocks back the alcohol. It burns, but not too badly through the buzz she has now. Sheer fucking pride and stubbornness keeps her from reaching for the lime, schooling her expression as Shelby hisses and sucks back the lime juice.

“Well that was,” and Shelby purses her lips, shaking her head, “strong.”

“Yeah, well,” Toni grabs the rum and coke, “thanks for the drinks.”

Shelby blocks her from leaving, a hand firm on her elbow. “Are you alright?”

“I’m great,” Toni snaps, wrenching her arm from Shelby’s grip, “why are you hovering over me all of a sudden?”

“Well, I just -”

“You just _what_ , Shelby?” Toni’s grip is tight on the glass, condensation slippery under her skin.

“I thought we could maybe hang out?”

There’s a harsh laugh that rips out of Toni’s throat. “Seriously? What, you can’t even _look_ at me half the night, and now you’re dying to hang out with me and buying me drinks?” She shakes her head and steps back. “Just pick a lane, Shelby. Pick a lane so you can stop being so goddamn hot and cold.”

She steps past her, stomach turning at the stunned look on Shelby’s annoyingly perfect face. There’s the warmth of satisfaction, at knowing she’s turned just a tiny bit of the hurt she feels onto the other girl, but it’s thoroughly washed away with the stronger icy-cold guilt at hurting her.

Toni sucks back her drink before she even gets back to Martha, leaving her empty glass on a nearby table. Dot takes her hands and starts trying to get her to dance, but her legs feel heavy. Her heart just isn’t in it anymore.

“Hey, Marty,” she leans in to speak into Martha’s ear, “I’m kind of tired.”

“Oh,” and Martha’s face is crestfallen, “yeah, okay, we can go.”

 _Fuck_.

“No, it’s okay,” Toni says, trying to backpedal, “I might just go sit down, okay? We can stay as long as you want.” She looks over at Dot, now joined by Rachel and Nora. Dot seems to catch the silent ask in the look she gives her.

“Martha, c’mon, get your dance on with us!”

With a grateful smile to Dot and her intuition, Toni winds her way through the dancing crowd. She gets bumped by a few different people. That would have been something that would set her off even just a few minutes ago, but she feels drained. Her body feels off-kilter, like she’s done something wrong, something that makes her _feel_ wrong.

Her body folds into the booth, slumped against the leather. There’s still the bottle of vodka sitting there in the middle of the table. Toni sighs and pours some into an empty shot glass. She doesn’t drink it right away, just turns the glass around on the table like a slow-spinning top. Alcohol spills over the edges and onto her fingers.

It’s stupid, she thinks, to feel this bent out of shape over a girl she knew she couldn’t trust. A situation she could never control. It’s not even like Shelby _did_ anything especially wrong. She didn’t do anything wrong, really. There aren’t any rules for this situation. Toni had never asked for guidelines, instead just throwing herself at the whims of this confused, scared girl.

She knocks the shot back.

 _Fucking idiot_.

Someone slides onto the bench across from her.

“You look like someone pissed in your cup,” Fatin says.

Toni snorts, and Fatin’s smile spreads in that wide way. They don’t know each other all that well, but Toni’s always felt a sort of mutual respect. Kinship feels too strong, but there’s an intensity that seems to sit under Fatin’s skin, one that Toni lets sit on her sleeve.

“Just tired,” Toni says, “what are you doing here? Thought you were hitting it off with that guy.”

“Oh, we hit it off,” Fatin says with a wink, “hit it off _really_ well in the bathroom.”

“Nice,” Toni laughs, and she pours a shot for herself and Fatin. She knows she’s probably drunk enough, pleasantly buzzed, but her hands pour the drink before she can stop and think about it. “To hitting it off in the bathroom.”

They tap their glasses together.

“You had your eye on anyone?” Fatin asks.

Toni shrugs, shaking her head a little at the lingering taste in her mouth. “I haven’t been looking.”

Fatin hums, and there’s something a little too knowing about it. Toni doesn’t think there’s any way Fatin could know what was actually going on, but the alcohol has loosened her brain just enough that she feels suspicious.

She feels seen in a way she doesn’t want to be.

It only gets worse when Shelby appears at the table, her eyes immediately drilling into Toni’s.

“Hey there,” Fatin says, leaning back against the bench, her posture as languid as her voice.

Shelby looks over at her, and it seems to take a second for her to register Fatin’s presence. “Hi, Fatin.” She kind of shakes her head, and Toni watches as she sways a little on the spot. “Just needed to come sit down, I think.”

Fatin doesn’t move from the edge of the booth, and Toni sighs. She shuffles down her side of the bench. Shelby sits beside her, only a few inches away.

“Thanks,” Shelby mumbles. Toni doesn’t answer, just shuffles a bit further away.

She tries not to notice the flash of hurt that crosses Shelby’s face.

“Well,” Fatin gets up, and Toni wants to kick her for not getting up literally _two_ seconds earlier, “I’m going to find a man for Leah to hit it off with. The birthday girl should really be the one visiting the bathroom, not me.”

“Good luck,” Toni calls after her.

The silence between her and Shelby is somehow more deafening than any noise in the club.

“You know,” Shelby breaks it, her words slurring together a little, “when I was thirteen, my youth group all had to sign this pledge that we wouldn’t do drugs at all, or drink until we were twenty-one. It said we wouldn’t have sex until we were married, too. That sex would be between a man and wife.”

“That’s fucked up,” Toni says.

“It was sacred.”

Toni looks up at that, and Shelby is already looking at her. Even in the uneven lighting of the club, under the influence of alcohol, her eyes hold an intensity that hooks Toni by the ribs, tugging until she feels like she can’t breathe.

“I’m sorry that I’m hurting you,” Shelby says, so soft that Toni nearly misses it. “I’m so sorry, Toni, I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t want to stop. I want…I want to be better, for you, but I don’t know that I can.”

Toni bites her lip, worrying it between her teeth. She can rationalise this, can attribute these things that Shelby’s saying to the alcohol. Her own buzz is messing with her head, loosening her tongue and lowering inhibitions.

“Maybe we just need some rules,” Toni says, “for both of us. So we don’t hurt each other.”

“Yeah,” Shelby is nodding, and under the table Toni feels a hand land on her knee, “that could work.”

“I’m drunk, though,” Toni says, clearing her throat and pulling her knee away from Shelby’s hand. She misses the warmth as soon as it’s gone. “And so are you. We should…we should do this when we’re sober.”

Shelby keeps nodding, and Toni watches her tongue swipe along her bottom lip.

It’s really distracting.

It makes Toni almost forget all the lines she can’t cross here.

Almost.

They sit in that full silence until the rest of the girls come back, talking about finding some greasy food somewhere. Toni goes along with the group, helping Fatin keep Leah steady as they all stagger through the streets. It’s cold out, but none of them seem to care as they dance their way down the sidewalks, cheering into the freedom of the cold night air.

Toni catches Shelby’s eye under a streetlamp, and just for second, she lets herself pretend.

_xiii_.

It takes Toni a week to work up the courage to initiate a conversation with Shelby.

They’re at Shelby’s apartment, lying on her ridiculously soft mattress and watching a movie on her laptop. It’s some inconsequential movie, about a man and a woman who fall in love but make up all these problems and reasons they can’t be together.

Toni wants to punch them and their problems in the face. She wants to grab the protagonists and shake them, demand why they’re insistent on trying to fabricate a tragic love story when _nothing_ about their situation says they can’t be together.

She’s trying not to read too much into those feelings.

“You’re shakin’,” Shelby says, reaching over with the arm that isn’t tucked under Toni’s head and pulling the blankets further up Toni’s body.

“Just these dumb people in this movie,” Toni mutters. “What the fuck problems do these two straight, rich, white people have that they’re so set on making trouble for themselves? It’s just…it pisses me off.”

“You know that straight, rich, white people can have problems too, right?”

Toni scoffs and rolls onto her back, shaking her head. “Of course you’d say that.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

Toni sits up and pauses the movie. “Well, you’re a rich white person. No shit you’d take their side.”

“I wasn’t aware this was a matter of _sides_ ,” Shelby says, with a bit of a laugh, “it’s just a movie, Toni. We don’t have to watch it.”

“Good, because it’s shitty,” Toni grumbles. Shelby sighs and shuts the computer, sitting up and crossing her legs. Toni avoids her eyes, knowing Shelby well enough by now that she’s either going to start talking and be unstoppable, with no room for Toni to say her piece, or Toni’s going to have to start.

Her stomach feels like it’s full of lead, but she forces herself to meet Shelby’s eyes.

“We need to talk, don’t we,” Toni says, and it’s not a question. It’s an acknowledgement.

“Probably.”

Toni sighs. “Do you want to keep doing this? Like, keep hooking up in secret? I’m okay with it, honestly. Whatever you want. But whatever that is, you need to tell me. And we need to figure out what that’s going to mean.

She watches as Shelby starts fingering the cross that hangs against her clavicle. Toni waits, and Shelby takes deep breaths.

“What if we make each other friggin’ miserable?” Shelby finally says. “I don’t want to hurt you, Toni. I’ve hurt people before,” and here she pauses, and her voice changes somehow, loses that silky timbre, and it claws under Toni’s skin, “very badly.”

Toni can see the shine of tears in the corner of Shelby’s eyes. She pushes the laptop aside, shuffling on her knees to sit in front of Shelby.

Her thumbs wipe the tears from Shelby’s cheeks.

“Look,” Toni says, “you don’t drive your car without a seatbelt, right?” Shelby chuckles at that, nodding her head. “That’s what this is. We’re putting on our seatbelts, and that way, if one of us gets hurt…it’s no one’s fault. Okay?”

Shelby leans forward and presses her lips to Toni’s, her hands resting on Toni’s shoulders. It’s short and soft. Their foreheads rest together when their lips part.

“How are you so damn calm about this?” Shelby asks.

Toni shrugs, nudging her nose against Shelby’s. “Honestly? Not a fucking clue.” She leaves a kiss at the corner of Shelby’s mouth, then leans back. “I’m starving though. Let’s get a pizza or something so I don’t have to have this conversation on an empty stomach.”

That makes Shelby laugh, that private, dorky laugh that Toni has only heard in the safety behind closed doors. It fills her chest with warmth.

It feels like something that, no matter what comes next, Toni can say it’s just for them.

_\--_

“Okay,” Toni says, wiping pizza grease from her fingers onto her shirt, “let’s go over the rules.” She picks up the notebook from Shelby’s lap, little spots of grease decorating the lined page. Shelby’s handwriting is perfect, of course, all perfect curves and curls. Just like her.

It would be frustrating if it wasn’t kind of hilariously cute.

“Rule number one,” Toni clears her throat, “don’t tell anyone. You’re not ready for anyone to know, and I’m…well, I’d never live it down.” She punctuates that with a cheeky grin.

Shelby rolls her eyes. “You’re an asshole.”

“Rule number two,” Toni says through her laughter, “and I can’t believe I let you put this, because it’s like the _dumbest_ thing from the _dumbest_ romcoms -”

“I’m sorry, where else am I supposed to get my information on this kind of thing?” Shelby interrupts, looking a little affronted. Toni leans over and kisses the frown from her lips.

“Calm down,” Toni teases. “Rule number two; no sleepovers.”

Shelby snatches the paper from her hands, her cheeks flushed pink. “Rule number three; no sex if there are other people around, no matter how sneaky we think we’re being. You’re too loud.”

“ _I’m_ loud?” Toni lunges, tackling Shelby and slamming her into the pillows. She braces her legs on either side of Shelby’s hips, gripping her wrists and holding her hands above her head. Shelby squirms against her, trying to toss her aside, but Toni holds steady. “If anyone here is loud, it’s you.” To prove her point, she leans down and captures Shelby’s lips in her own. She kisses deeply, teeth nipping at Shelby’s bottom like the way she knows she likes, tongue soothing the bites and slipping between soft lips. One hand releases Shelby’s wrist and slides down the side of her neck, tracing the line of her clavicle and resting on the curve of her breast.

Toni leans back from their kiss, tongue sliding slowly from Shelby’s open mouth. A wave of satisfaction and (if she’s honest) pure fucking desire shakes through her when Shelby moans, her eyelashes fluttering. A gentle squeeze and a well-placed swipe of her thumb draws the noise out, louder and longer.

She leans down again, lips brushing against the shell of Shelby’s ear. “Told you.”

“You’re the worst,” Shelby says, but the effect is lost in the breathy tone of her voice, the way she presses up into Toni’s hand.

The paper lies beside them, forgotten. Toni lets Shelby weave her fingers into her hair. They kiss again, and again, until the empty pizza box has been knocked to the floor and they’re tangled up together.

The next morning, neither of them has the guts to point out that they’ve already broken one of their rules.

_xiv_.

Martha leads Toni through the mall on a hunt for jeans. Toni isn’t completely sure how she ended up here, having gotten home from Shelby’s that morning after a night of very little sleep and hoping she could just pass out for a couple hours.

That hadn’t worked out.

They had taken the family van and driven the half hour out of town to the mall. Toni had to work hard to stay awake on the ride, focusing hard on what Martha was saying to her. She knows Martha is probably suspicious of her. It’s not unusual for Toni to be coming home in the mornings, especially not these days, but Martha knows her better than she knows herself sometimes.

She can always tell when something is a little off.

Toni buys herself a cinnamon bun and a shitty coffee to keep herself awake. Martha steals bites of the pastry when they sit by the indoor fountain.

“Why are pants so hard to find?” Martha groans.

“Because manufacturers think every woman should be shaped like a twelve-year-old boy.” Toni licks some icing off her fingers. Martha laughs, and they sit and people watch. They comment on the different mall people; the high school girls that travel in giggling packs, the exhausted looking parents with their young kids running wild. The people on bad mall dates, the men carrying bags on bags on bags for their high maintenance girlfriends.

The ex-girlfriends who have suddenly appeared in front of them.

“Hey guys,” Regan says, and the sight of her face is like a bucket of ice water on Toni’s good mood.

“Regan!” Martha jumps up and pulls the new arrival into a hug.

Toni stays seated. It feels like she’s been tossed into rapids in a canoe with no paddle, just being tossed this way and that with no control.

Not that she’s ever had any control when it comes to Regan.

“Hi, Toni,” Regan says, and she kind of holds out her arms. Toni stands up too quickly, wiping her sticky fingers on her pants. The empty wrapper falls to the floor as she tries to figure out what to do.

“Hey.”

Regan pulls her into a hug. She smells the same, the same shampoo and the same perfume. It doesn’t comfort Toni the way it used to.

It just sets her even further on edge.

“It’s good to see you,” Regan says once they pull apart, “you look good.”

“Yeah,” is all Toni manages to say. She looks desperately to Martha for help.

“Are you back in town?” Martha pulls through for her, as always.

“Just for a visit,” she answers with that easy-going smile she has. It flips Toni’s stomach. “I’m heading back to Chicago in a couple days.”

“How’s school out there?”

Toni zones out, trying desperately to sort out the hundreds of different feelings that are whipping through her head. She’s confused, that’s for sure, because seeing Regan brings back too many memories. Really, really bad ones. And the best ones. She’s like a physical manifestation of Toni’s favourite and worst times, and looking at her is like looking at the sun.

It hurts, but it’s so hard to resist.

Before she can try and escape, Martha is inviting Regan to join them with a sly look in Toni’s direction. The three of them set off together, Toni walking just a bit behind the other two girls. She shoves her hands in her pockets and shrugs her shoulders up to her ears.

Regan and Martha lead her around the mall, dipping into different stores to try and find the ever-elusive jeans that Martha needs. Toni is the dutiful companion, holding Martha’s coat when she wants to try something on, offering up her opinions when asked for them.

Regan keeps looking at her.

It’s all kinds of distracting.

When Martha takes a couple pairs of pants into a dressing room at some store where the mannequins look like they think they’re better than everyone, Regan sits beside Toni on the soft little bench outside the dressing rooms.

“It’s good to see you, Toni,” she says, leaning over and bumping their shoulders together, “sorry if I surprised you. I just…well, I wanted to come say hi.”

“It’s cool,” Toni says, and she finds that, as she sits here and says those words, they start to become true. “It’s good to see you, too. Really.” She emphasises it with a smile, even if it feels tight on her face.

Regan reaches and arm out and drapes it around Toni’s shoulders, pulling her in for a quick side hug. Toni reciprocates with a couple of pats on Regan’s back. It’s awkward, but the more Toni tells herself that everything is okay, the more things start to turn in that direction.

“You do look good,” Regan says once they’ve pulled apart, “like, you seem happy. It’s nice to see you happy.”

“Cinnabon will do that to a girl,” Toni deflects. She looks down at where their thighs are almost touching on the small bench. “You seem good, too. Chicago treating you well?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Regan says, “it’s cool to live in a city like that, y’know? And I’ve met a lot of cool people.”

A few years ago, hearing that would have sent Toni into a jealous spiral. Unwilling to share Regan with anyone, unwilling to hear that life without Toni could be better for someone. Even if she knew it would be.

Now, she just smiles. “That’s awesome. I’m really happy for you.” And she means it.

Martha comes out of the dressing room, asking for opinions on the jeans she’s trying on.

“Are those embroidered flowers?” Toni says. “Hard pass, Marty.”

“Yeah, they’re not doing your ass any favours, either,” Regan adds. Martha groans and goes back into the dressing room, whipping the curtain shut behind her.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” 

Regan’s question comes out of nowhere, and Toni chokes on her own saliva. “Uh, why?”

“I don’t know, isn’t that what people ask their exes?” Regan laughs, pulling her knee up and resting her chin on it with a grin. “You’re blushing. You’re totally seeing someone.”

“I am _not_ ,” Toni snipes back, but it doesn’t hold any venom.

“Oh my god, you _so_ are,” Regan teases, reaching out and poking Toni in the ribs. “Who is she? Do I know her? It better not be Hannah from senior bio, I know you think she’s hot but she’s fucking _crazy_ , Toni.” 

Toni rolls her eyes and shoves Regan’s hand away. “It’s not Hannah from senior bio, Jesus.” She crosses her ankles and then uncrosses them. “It’s complicated.”

Regan hums. “Why?”

“Do you really want to be hearing about my complicated love life?” Toni asks.

“I don’t know,” Regan says with a shrug, “maybe?”

Toni sighs. As she’s about to answer, a familiar voice drifts to her ears from the front of the store. She looks over her shoulder, and _of fucking course_ Shelby is standing by the racks at the front. She’s with an older woman, with equally blonde hair and long legs. Toni recognises her as Shelby’s mom. Her lips drift into a smile before she can stop them.

Regan turns her head and follows her gaze with a curious quirk of her brow. Toni quickly whips her head back around and stares down at her feet.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Regan says, and Toni can hear the amusement in her voice, “no. No way.”

“Shut up,” Toni groans, burying her face in her hands.

“She’s so…white.”

“Fuck you,” Toni bumps their shoulders together.

“I can see why it’s complicated,” Regan continues, “she looks like she should be on the cover of ‘American Girl’ with a little matching doll.” Toni groans again. “No, seriously, she’s _that_ pretty. And _that_ American.”

“She’s from Texas,” Toni mumbles, and Regan bursts into laughter. Toni slugs her in the arm. “Okay, you’ve had your fun. Now shut up about it, okay?”

“This is a great day,” Regan sighs through the last dregs of her laughter.

“I hate you.”

Martha comes out again. “What are you guys laughing at?”

Toni slaps a hand over Regan’s mouth before she can answer. “Nothing. Just a dumb inside joke.”

Regan pries Toni’s hand off of her face and shoves her off the bench with a good-natured smile. “Those look good, Martha.”

“You think so?” And Toni can tell Martha is moving past her curiosity for Toni’s sake. “I really like them.”

Toni stands up from the floor and brushes off the seat of her pants. “Yeah, they look good. Let’s get them and get out of here.”

As Martha changes back into her own clothes, Regan looks at Toni. There’s a wrinkle in her forehead, one that Toni knows means she’s thinking hard about something. Calculating.

“What?” Toni snaps, entirely uncomfortable under the stare of her ex-girlfriend.

“Not even Martha?”

The question is clear even without more words, and Toni fists her hands in her pockets with a curt shake of her head.

“That sucks.” Regan matches her stance. “I hope that’s what you want.”

“It’s fine,” Toni says, “really. It’s…it’s all for the best.”

When they come out of the dressing room area, Shelby is gone. Toni feels a wave of relief. There’s no telling how fucking awkward that could have been, with her ex-girlfriend, her best friend, and her secret…whatever Shelby is.

They say goodbye in the parking lot, exchanging hugs and well-wishes. Regan holds Toni for an extra second, and this time as Toni breathes her in, it feels like sitting in a favourite armchair, safe and warm and, just for a second, like going home.

_xv._

Shelby isn’t answering her texts.

It’s been nearly a week of radio silence, and Toni’s been worried for nearly every day of it.

Not that Shelby _has_ to answer her. She can do whatever she wants, they’re not girlfriends or whatever. But something is bugging her, in the back of her mind, and it feels like a warning. Like something is wrong.

So, she hops on the bus into town.

The doorman in Shelby’s building has gotten used to her now, but he still watches her with an eagle eye as she rings Shelby’s buzzer.

“Hello?” Shelby’s voice is warped through the speaker.

“Hey, it’s me,” Toni says, “uh, Toni. I was in the neighbourhood and thought I’d stop by?” She winces as she makes the excuse, knowing it sounds as weak as she feels saying it.

“Toni?” Shelby pauses. The speaker crackles. Toni thinks she hears someone in the background. “Okay, um, I’ll buzz you in.”

The buzzer blares and the door swings open. Toni makes the familiar walk to the familiar elevator, exiting on the familiar floor and knocking on the familiar door.

She nearly jumps back when an unfamiliar face opens it.

“Hi there,” the man says, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “you must be Toni.” Without waiting for her to respond, he offers up his hand. “Dave Goodkind.”

“Uh, hey,” Toni says, taking his hand and shaking it. “Sorry, I didn’t know…I just came by to see Shelby.”

“Well, come on in,” the man – Dave – says. He steps aside and Toni steps inside. It’s an apartment that she’s been in dozens of times, but this is the first time she feels like an intruder.

Shelby is sitting on the couch next to her mother. She looks done up, not excessively so, but more so than Toni has come to be used to. Toni catches her eye and tries to send a silent ‘what the fuck’ her way, but Shelby just pastes on a big, shiny smile and stands up.

“Hi, Toni,” she says.

“Hi.” Toni watches as Dave walks over to the armchair and sits down. She gets the feeling that he’s still watching her, even if he’s not facing her. “Uh, I can go, I didn’t know your parents were here.”

“No, it’s fine,” Shelby says, walking over to her, “did you need something?”

Her smile is wide, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Toni thinks she knows Shelby well enough by now to identify the look in her eyes as completely fucking terrified.

“Yeah, um,” and Toni tries desperately to find an excuse, “I just wanted to…get that…thing I loaned you. Back. I came to get it back.”

She wants to punch herself in the face.

“Right,” Shelby says, “it’s in my room. I’ll just…do you want to…?”

“Yeah.” Toni thinks that, even back when she kind of hated Shelby, they have never had an exchange this awkward before. She toes her sneakers off and follows Shelby to her room.

The door clicks shut behind them. Shelby turns on her quickly, arms wrapped around her torso.

“What are you doing here?” Shelby hisses.

“You weren’t answering my texts,” Toni whispers back, “I just…I wanted to check that you weren’t, like, dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“I’m clearly not,” Shelby snaps back.

Toni sighs and leans up against the door. “I’m sorry, alright? I was just worried.”

“Well, you don’t need to be,” Shelby says, “it’s none of your business.”

“Okay,” Toni says slowly, “well, you didn’t have to let me in. You could’ve just told me to fuck off.” Shelby steps closer to her, and Toni breathes a sharp inhale as the smell of her perfume overwhelms her sense.

“My dad told me to invite you in,” she says, and they’re speaking at a low volume, barely more than a whisper, “otherwise, I would have told you to…to leave.”

“Well, I’m happy to leave now,” Toni bites back at her. They’re only a few inches apart now, and Toni’s hands ache to reach out and pull Shelby closer, to kiss all that anger and fear away.

Anger and fear are pretty familiar to Toni. It’s easy to identify them in Shelby’s eyes.

“Maybe you should.”

“Just give me something so my half-assed excuse doesn’t fall apart,” Toni points out. Shelby hesitates, the muscles in her jaw tightening. Toni watches her fingers dig into her arms, her eyes flicking left and right, unable to settle on any one thing.

“Who was that girl?”

The question takes Toni by surprise. “What?”

“That girl you were with,” Shelby says, looking at something to her left, “at the mall. Who was she?”

“At the mall?” Toni shakes her head, trying to figure out what Shelby’s talking about. “You mean Martha?”

“No, the other girl!” Shelby’s volume raises, and she snaps her jaw shut. She continues in a hushed tone, but it doesn’t lack any intensity. “The one you were so close with on the bench.”

“Regan?” Toni blinks, bewildered by Shelby’s reaction. “She’s…she’s my ex. We ran into her, and she hung out for a bit.”

“Your ex,” it’s not phrased like a question, almost more like an accusation.

“Yeah,” Toni says, “my ex.”

“So, what, are you two like…reconnecting?”

Toni studies Shelby’s face, tracing the hard line of her mouth and the tightness in her jaw. She still won’t look at her, eyes flitting around under a furrowed brow.

 _Oh_.

“Are you jealous?” Toni can’t help the grin that breaks out on her face.

“No!” Shelby exclaims. “I am _not_ jealous.”

“So why do you care if Regan and I are reconnecting?” Toni smirks when Shelby gapes, trying to come up with something to say. “It’s kind of cute, actually. You being jealous.”

“Shut up,” Shelby says, and the severity with which she says it almost scares Toni. “Look, just…grab something and get out of here. I’m not…I can’t…you need to leave. Please, Toni.”

Toni nods, stepping past Shelby and walking to her closet. She grabs the first thing she sees that isn’t some easter basket colour and drapes it over her shoulder. “Shelby, look -”

“Please, Toni.” There’s something pleading in her tone now, and Toni purses her lips. “I just…I need some space. Can you please just give me that?”

“Yeah.”

Shelby seems to relax then, just a bit. Just enough for her nails to release the flesh of her arms. Toni can see the ugly red marks there, and she grabs a cardigan from Shelby’s closet.

“Here,” she holds it out, “cover those up.”

Shelby takes it with a shaky hand, pulling it up over her shoulders. “Thanks.” Toni nods in acknowledgement.

They come out of her room together, and Toni makes her excuses to Shelby’s parents, artfully deflecting the invitation to lunch. As she stands in the doorway, Shelby’s eyes finally meet hers. They’re unreadable, and before Toni can try to offer some sort of silent comfort, Dave Goodkind closes the door on her.

The bus ride home is long, rain starting to fall from the grey skies. Toni finally looks at what she’d grabbed from Shelby’s closet. She unfolds the dark blue shirt, and sees the familiar Hopewell Lake High School crest staring back at her. Her heart swells at the sight of her own t-shirt in her hands, and she carefully folds it back up.

 _Well,_ Toni thinks to herself, tamping down the smile that will probably make her look like a weirdo on public transit, _who would’ve thought._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a delay between chapters - sorry about that! just took some personal time this past week or so, and it's been lovely. 
> 
> i can't even begin to express how happy all your comments make me - it's overwhelming in the best of ways. 
> 
> as always, stay safe, stay healthy, and thank you so much!


	5. shelby

Shelby Goodkind has always believed in these three things:

  1. God, and all that He made was good and pure, and flawed and uncertain
  2. Family, and all that it meant to be part of one
  3. Honesty, and that it could never lead to hurt if one said what they truly felt



God is what she was supposed to have first believed, but if she sits down and thinks about it, it’s family that comes first. If not for her family, she doesn’t know if she’d even know who God is, or what He stands for and inspires.

Her father – and it’s important to remember the difference between a capital-F Father, and the one who she shares DNA with, the lower-case-F father – loves her. Has always loved her, so deeply that Shelby thinks he doesn’t even know when it’s too much.

He’s loved the capital-F Father longer than he’s loved his children, or his wife. That’s important, too, Shelby thinks.

Dave Goodkind grew up in the church. Southern Baptist, Evangelical, preach until your voice gives out and your lungs ache – that church. The church of suffering for your sins, of praying for every lost soul out there until you felt that you couldn’t pray anymore. The church where men, women, and children alike would venture out into the world and spread goodness and faith and _civilisation_ until every inch of the world was dipping their fingers in the Holy Water and cleansing themselves.

Shelby grew up there, too.

She can remember every Sunday of putting on her fancy church clothes, of letting her mom tie her hair up in ribbons that matched her dress. There was a ceremony about it, being the daughter of the pastor; she knew, from a very young age, that she was expected to show up perfect. Her dress couldn’t be too dark (or too revealing, as she grew older – but also not too prudish), her hair had to be done and then untouched. Children have restless hands, sticky hands, and Shelby learned early to keep them folded in her lap.

Pageants were a part of that, too. Texas loves a pageant, loves the parade of beautiful girls that talk of politics they’ve never cared for, that show off talents they will never pursue.

Texas loves a good, Christian girl who never grows to be too much of a woman.

The choice to leave for college was easy; she applied everywhere she could and accepted the most un-Texas-like school out in Minnesota. She needed to leave, wanted to know what it felt like to breathe harsh winter air, to escape the mountains of baggage that came with growing up in a small town in the south.

She packed her bags and told her ghosts to stay behind.

Andrew, well, he pretended to care, but Shelby knew he would find some other girl to bury himself in.

Her little siblings didn’t seem to care much, closer to each other than to her, and happy to argue over who would get to take over Shelby’s room.

Minnesota was like a whole different country. There was a church there (there were many churches, but only one that seemed close to reaching the degree of fire and brimstone that Shelby felt safe in), and she found herself there every Sunday. No matter how many assignments she had, or how many people invited her to parties the night before, Shelby would be at the 11 am service, her hair and face done up perfectly, her dress chosen meticulously.

College was new. It was this area of the world, of life, that she had never been able to experience before. Parties and drinking, no matter how hard she tried to abstain, were unavoidable. Even her fellow Christian students, who she had met through the different clubs at school, were going to houses, and drinking. It felt like a losing battle, but she never gave in. She would offer to be the DD, giving herself the perfect out from a game of beer pong, or flip cup.

Second-year, she made a choice. Shelby decided to meet other people, to branch out from her Christian posse of unfaithfuls, to seek out the light of God and friendship in those who, maybe, had no clue it was inside of them.

Martha Blackburn was one of those.

And it wasn’t that she was imbued with Godliness, or anything heavenly, but Martha seemed to be one of those people that radiated love. And light. And that feeling of home, the one that made Shelby think of coming home on a cool winter’s eve and being served chilli and cornbread, of feeling her mother’s lips press into the top of her head.

There hadn’t been a moment’s hesitation when Martha invited Shelby to sign up for intramural sports.

Their team was a mosaic of mismatched pieces.

Fatin, the virtuosic cellist who had given it all up to study communications, determined to make a living independent of her parents, and dependant on the changing affections of the masses on Instagram.

Nora, the quiet genius, maybe the strongest of them all, who lived under the heavy weight of her sister.

Her sister, Rachel, who carried anger as her constant companion.

Leah. Leah, who seemed hollowed out by the words of a man, who seemed unlikely to ever surface from the ruin he had wrought upon her.

Dotty, perfectly unfiltered and a face Shelby was surprised to recognise. Dotty, whose voice carried with it the sounds of home and whose words were honest and true.

Jeanette, bless her heart, unable to continue playing after suffering a bout of homesickness so severe she had taken the train almost immediately and had never been heard from again.

Now, it’s important to Shelby’s story that it be mentioned that Shelby knew she carried sin inside of her.

There were the manifested sins; lying to her parents, as all children did. Sneaking extra desserts when she knew that meant there wouldn’t be enough for her brother and sister. Pride, that was one she had always had, and had worked so hard to tamp down, but Shelby knew she carried pride on her shoulder everywhere she went.

And then there was the sin she had buried along with her best friend.

Two sins, maybe.

It showed up everywhere. It was present in the laugh of her economics professor when she made a stupid pun about brokers. It reared its head at parties, when hips would sway and skirts would flip. Shelby felt the tingle of sin throughout her entire body when a classmate would say something clever and bite her lip against the proud smile when the professor praised her.

The sin nearly consumed her when she first saw Toni Shalifoe.

It was stupid, really.

Really stupid.

Shelby knew how to turn it into judgement, to bring the memories of her pageant days back and, through logic and critical thinking, break down Toni’s appearance until the burning in her gut went away.

Toni had dark, curly hair. It was already a bit damp with sweat, Shelby noticed, curling pleasantly by her ears.

Toni had brown eyes. They weren’t dark, or muddy, but clear. Clear and expressive and narrowed with competition.

Toni was a bit shorter than Shelby, but there was an energy about her that made her seem miles higher than she was. Her energy burned anyone who got close, except for Martha, who seemed to be the only thing that could extinguish the scalding aura Toni gave off.

When she stormed from the gym, kicked out of the game, Shelby watched her go with a pounding heart she’d assigned to fear and irritation.

Who the heck gets that worked up over a game of intramural basketball?

\--

It’s not until Shelby wakes from her fifth dream of Toni’s hands, her lips, her tongue, that she drops to her knees and bows her head.

Her lips form the familiar words, asking for forgiveness and guidance. She clasps her fingers together so tightly that she can hardly feel them anymore, and she prays until her throat is dry and her lips are chapped.

It does nothing to stop the dreams.

It does nothing to stop the way that Toni’s mere presence seems to light her every nerve on fire.

At the cabin of her family friend, Shelby doesn’t drink. Her hands stay tucked by her side, her eyes being dragged unwilling from the confident way Toni holds herself as she tosses that plastic ball into those plastic cups.

Shelby stares at the cocky smirk on her lips, and for a second she allows herself to imagine what it would be like to swallow it and absorb it and…

She says it at the fire.

Or, she doesn’t say it.

Her words are cutting, she knows that, but the deep ache she’s felt all day can’t be abated, can’t be ignored - it can only be crushed.

And so, crush it she does.

Toni’s reaction hurts, and it soothes, and it lets Shelby breathe for what feels like the first time in weeks.

If Toni hates her, what’s the point in dreaming?

The point, as it turns out, is that Shelby actually has no control over her dreams.

She dreams about Toni every night. Or, she dreams of a girl that’s always got some piece of Toni. Her voice, her hair, her eyes.

Every morning when she wakes up, Shelby washes those dreams away under the pounding stream in her shower. She irons it from her hair and paints over her face until she can see control back in her eyes, until she looks in the mirror and knows exactly who she needs to be.

Her parents come to visit every two months.

They don’t have to, Shelby’s told them that so many times, but they come anyways. They take her shopping, they stock her fridge to match the one in her childhood home, and they always find time to sit down and talk about what _they_ expect from their eldest child.

The words change, but the message doesn’t.

_Perfection._

So when she pushes Toni up against that brick wall and draws life into her mouth through another woman’s lips, Shelby feels the imperfection grip her heart with its hot claws, digging, digging, digging until she can’t breathe, until she can’t speak, until she pulls back and runs.

She falls to her knees that night and prays. She winds her fingers together, so tight that the blood is barely making its way to their tips. Her lips form the words with ease, begging for forgiveness, for light, for the Lord to lead her out of this tangled wood once again and to let her be free of it.

“I know that I am a sinner,” she mumbles, gasping back tears, “and that I cannot save myself, Lord.”

The backs of her eyelids burn with the memory of Toni’s eyes, wide and wondering, searching for an answer in the terror Shelby wore across her face.

“Come into my heart, Lord Jesus, and be my Saviour.”

\--

_Give me a heart of discernment to know when You are using someone to speak instruction into my heart and my circumstances, and give me the strength and courage to follow through with that advice, even when it’s hard._

Shelby recites it over and over again as she watches Toni take to the court. From her spot in the bleachers, she fingers her necklace and flips the cross over and over. She ignores the looks from her teammates – no, her friends, they’ve all become this unlikely troupe of mismatched friends – and she tries to send some sort of rationality back into her mind.

All she can do is imagine what it would be like to grab Toni by the hand and pull her in, to lean down and close the tiny gap in their heights, to press forward until they touched and their lips met.

Dotti comes over at half-time, sitting down on the row below. She leans back, her elbow bumping against Shelby’s sneaker.

“You’re struggling with something,” and Shelby likes this about Dottie, that she doesn’t talk in circles or try to make problems into a metaphor, “it’s pretty obvious.”

Shelby tries to smile, but it gets stuck. “It’s personal.”

“Yeah,” Dottie shrugs, “everything is personal. And I don’t like to get too personal with people. None of my fuckin’ business, really.” She exhales heavily and looks over her shoulder to find Shelby’s eyes. “Look, we grew up in a small town and…well, people talk.”

“You shouldn’t listen to gossip,” Shelby mumbles, her chest caught in a vise-grip.

“Yeah, well, we come from a boring fucking town.”

That makes Shelby chuckle.

“I guess, what I want to say,” Dottie sighs and scratches a spot on her chin. Shelby waits for her to collect her thoughts. “There’s no one watching you here, Shelby. And maybe you could stand to do a little sinning.”

Dottie’s words play over in her head the rest of the game. They fill her with something akin to bravery. Maybe just recklessness, or stupidity, or whatever it is that makes young adults feel like they can take risks and say _fuck the consequences_.

It’s unfamiliar and it’s intoxicating.

Because, Shelby thinks as she sneaks glances at Toni across the couch, their fingers linked tentatively, who _is_ watching? And if she tries this, and she can get her fill, and she can move on and check the box next to the little line in her head that says ‘be yourself’, surely she can repent and beg and pray, and surely God will know that she needed this.

That Shelby Goodkind needs Toni Shalifoe.

And then, well, maybe she won’t need this ever again.

\--

Need, as it turns out, is not like hunger. It’s not like thirst. It can’t be quenched or filled. Need is like a little pile of sand. Each brush of their skin adds another grain to the pile. Every kiss is a pinch more sand, and then a handful when Shelby feels the weight of Toni pressing down on top of her.

Need grows.

It grows until Shelby is buried in it.

There’s something about Toni that Shelby can’t put into words.

Or, she could, but it’s too soon and too much, and if she thinks about it, it will make her explode into a million tiny pieces that could never possible be put back together, and she would just be this broken shadow of herself.

Toni is good, and Toni is kind. She is patient in all the ways that matter, and impatient in all the ways that don’t. She laughs loudly and without reservation, and she’s not afraid to call a spade a spade. She is assured, and comfortable in her skin in a way that Shelby never has been.

Shelby doesn’t know what her skin is like without the powders and the creams, the careful layer of protection that she applies each morning.

Toni laughs and points out the mole on her inner thigh, telling Shelby that the first time she noticed it, she thought she had dropped a raisin down her pants somehow. Stories of different scars, physical manifestations of her path to where she is now.

Toni doesn’t call them that, she just says, “I was such a dumb kid, I thought I was invincible.”

“Hmm,” Shelby answers that with a press of her lips to the back of Toni’s arm, “I was always told I was precious.”

When Shelby tells Toni about how she used to have her retainer with the two teeth, Toni laughs and takes a careful interest in exploring the texture of Shelby’s veneers with her tongue, humming and hawing, complaining she’ll need a lot more time and practice to tell the difference.

It feels strange, after a while, that Shelby hasn’t felt scared. She doesn’t stay up at night and worry and pray for guidance or forgiveness. Nothing has happened to her; there hasn’t been a lightning strike, or a sudden booming voice from the heavens, or even a prophetic dream about being sentenced to eternal damnation.

The world goes on, paying no mind to the way she craves the taste of Toni’s lips.

Shelby pours herself into Toni.

She gives herself over to that burning desire in her body, and every touch is like a burst of heavenly light.

Toni is careful, and considerate, and everything Shelby imagined her first time would be. She checks in with lips pressed to the shell of Shelby’s ear, her voice low and sending shivers along her spine.

Touching Toni feels like a revelation.

 _Why is this not a whole book in the bible?_ Shelby finds herself wondering, her fingers wrapped in warmth and the trembling body of a beautiful girl beside her. Shelby’s name tumbles from Toni’s lips and it sounds like the truest prayer she’s ever heard. _How can something this wondrous be anything_ but _holy?_

\--

Her daddy had always said that doing bad things is a slippery slope. He would say that when she would leave an assignment to the last minute, or lie about being sick.

“C’mon now, Shelbs,” he’d say, his smile never quite reaching his eyes, “one bad thing is just a stepping stone to another. It’s a slippery slope, and once you’re sliding down, it’s gonna be real hard for me to pull you back out.”

That’s what she thinks about as she knocks back the shot.

She sees the little path by her church back home, the paving stones spread out with dusty gaps between them, and she remembers jumping from stone to stone as a child.

Toni stares at her across the table, and Shelby jumps to the next stone.

There’s still something coiled inside of her that won’t let her loosen up. The alcohol is slowly working its way through her system, but no amount of lubrication can get the spring to release.

She dances with her friends and keeps her distance from Toni.

It’s hard, because Toni looks unfairly good in those jeans, dark and tight and hardly threadbare. The shirt she wears is unbuttoned low, hanging loosely around her frame and swishing as she dances with Martha.

It’s hard because all Shelby wants to do is rip that shirt off of her and leave a thousand marks across the unmarred skin of her chest.

It’s hard because Toni won’t even look at her anymore.

Shelby tries, she tries to extend the olive branch. Toni picks the leaves off the branch and walks away, leaving Shelby confused and upset by the bar. A guy tries to hit on her, sliding her a drink, but Shelby ignores him and it. Her eyes are stuck to Toni’s retreating form.

Longing sits on her chest until she thinks she might not be able to breathe.

Alcohol burns a hole in her reasoning.

Alcohol pushes her to sit close to Toni, to reach a hand under the table and search for the warmth of her knee.

No, it’s a lie.

Shelby knows it’s a lie, that the alcohol that buzzes through her veins is merely the wind holding the door open. Every step to cross that threshold has been her own two feet.

The pounding headache the next day feels like a suitable punishment for the hurt she put in Toni’s eyes.

\--

Toni wants rules.

Shelby doesn’t point out that she’s been breaking every rule she’s ever known since the day she met Toni.

So, it’s no surprise that they break one immediately.

Later that day, when Toni has left and Shelby is lying on her, still wrapped in her towel with damp hair soaking her pillow, her phone buzzes.

_Collecting our bags now! Can’t wait to see you, sweetheart! Xoxo_

The dread comes over her like ice.

Shelby starts cleaning in a panic. She scrubs the floors and wipes down the counters, tossing her sheets in the wash and vacuuming every scrap of dust from each and every corner.

Her heart races the entire time, the fear she had been keeping under such well-guarded lock and key finally breaking through and washing through her system. Shelby had forgotten about her parents impending arrival, had forgotten that outside of this town, she has to be someone else.

Hell, even _inside_ this town she’s still pretending to be someone else.

She’s just finishing the final touch of her straightener on her hair when she hears the lock turn in the door.

Dave and Jo Beth Goodkind wrap her in hugs, squeezing her between them and peppering kisses against her golden hair. They take her to the couch and sit her down, immediately asking about school, about church.

Dave claims the need for a rest after an hour, suggesting in that not-a-suggestion-at-all way that Shelby and her mother go to the mall. He passes his credit card to Jo Beth with a patronizing smile, a placating kiss on the apple of her cheek.

“I’m going to make sure you’ve got the right groceries once I’m all rested,” he says, kicking his feet up on the couch, “just because you’re not in the circuit anymore, doesn’t mean there’s any excuse to get lazy about your diet.”

Shelby drives. Her mom keeps up idle chatter about her siblings, about the comings and goings of her father’s bible studies. Shelby nods and hums appropriately. She’s happy for the excuse of driving to keep her mouth shut.

Her mom has always been this kind light in Shelby’s life. Her daddy is like the sun, burning and bright. Mom is…like the gentle glow of the moon. She takes that light from the sun and turns it into something bearable and beautiful. A safe haven in the endless sea of expectation that Dave Goodkind has created.

They wander around the mall, no destination in particular to direct them. Shelby lets her mom pick outfits for her to try on, nothing really suiting or sticking.

Her eyes drift across the stores to the men’s sections. She’d never thought much about it all, the gendering of clothing, not until she started this thing with Toni. There was something about the way a flannel hung off Toni’s thin frame, about the soft t-shirts and casual jeans that were tossed to her bedroom floor.

Shelby remembers wrapping one of those flannels around her own shoulders. It was impossibly soft and worn. She’d liked the colours, red and black, and she’d liked the way the fabric felt on her bare shoulders.

She’d loved the way Toni had looked at her then. Her eyes had gone dark, her teeth digging into her bottom lip.

Toni had looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

No. No, Toni never looked at her quite like that. And it isn’t what Shelby wants from Toni. Everyone else is always looking at Shelby like that, like she’s gorgeous and perfect. They never see her, and that might be Shelby’s fault. She hides herself behind any mask she can find. And they always look away.

Toni had looked at her like she didn’t ever want to stop seeing her.

Her mom pulls her into another store, thumbing through the racks in the doorway.

A familiar voice reaches her ears.

Toni is sitting at the back of the store, lounging back on a bench next to a girl Shelby’s never seen before.

A beautiful girl.

A girl who’s got her hand on Toni’s shoulder, laughing and smiling.

Shelby’s stomach ties itself into a thousand knots.

“Mom, I’m kinda hungry,” she blurts out, “can we go grab something?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Jo Beth says with a smile.

Her insides never settle.

Her chest feels tighter every day that she ignores Toni’s texts. Food loses its appeal, but she forces it down. Her parents don’t seem to notice her inner turmoil, not even when they all migrate to the church Sunday morning and Shelby spends the whole service with her head bowed, praying endlessly without receiving a response.

Lying awake at night, that vignette plays in the darkness. Toni and that other girl, laughing together so causally at the mall. It twists her gut, makes her dig her fingernails into the palms of her hands.

She covers the shadows under her eyes with layers of makeup, praying for some sort of salvation from the circle of torture she’s created for herself.

Instead, God sends another torture.

Shelby loses control. Her hands shake and her heart races and pounds in her ears. It’s not until she’s seething and backing Toni up against the door that the flash of déjà-vu strikes her.

It’s enough to send her stumbling back, wrapping her arms around herself.

She knows that she speaks, she knows that words flew from her lips like daggers. Words that turned to pleading, to asking for mercy.

Shelby’s well-practiced in asking for mercy.

“Here,” Toni says, and it’s too soft and kind for Shelby, who knows she doesn’t deserve the clemency that Toni is granting her, “cover those up.”

Shelby blinks and looks at her arms. Angry red welts are blooming. The cardigan is soft where it brushes her skin, and she catches a whiff of Toni’s shampoo as she brushes by her.

She wants to fall to her knees and beg forgiveness. She wants to collapse into Toni’s arms, sure in the knowledge that Toni will catch her.

Instead, she watches her walk out the door, each step between them driving a knife further into Shelby’s heart.

\--

Her parents head home the next day, doling out hugs and kisses and promises to pass her love on to the rest of her family. They bow their heads as they hold hands at airport security, her dad leading them in a quick prayer for safety and protection.

The words taste like sand.

Shelby sits in her car in the parking lot, tapping her fingers against the top of the steering wheel.

“Okay,” she says, flipping her sun-visor down and staring herself in the eyes, “you need to get your shit together, Shelby Goodkind. God helps those who help themselves, and right now you are just…a God-damned mess. You aren’t helpin’ anybody by moping around and hiding.”

Her reflection blinks back at her, those familiar green eyes filled with a new determination.

“I know you’re scared,” Shelby continues, “Lord knows I know, but you can’t lose her. She might not even want to talk to you, because you’ve been such a fucking idiot, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.” She takes a deep breath and nods. “She’s worth it. You being happy for the first time in forever, that is _worth_ a little adversity. A lot of adversity.”

The visor is flipped back up, and the engine starts smooth and low.

Something warm lights in the centre of her chest.

It feels a lot like hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for waiting this one out! 
> 
> i'm nervous about it, but i bit the bullet and here we go...
> 
> your support is amazing and so much more than i ever could have imagined - truly brightens my day when i get to read your thoughts on this little story of mine!
> 
> stay safe out there!


	6. xvi - xix

_xvi_.

There’s a significant lack of moonlight tonight. Toni dribbles the ball once, twice, three times, and then with her eyes squinting into the darkness, she lines up the perfect shot.

It bounces off the rim and off into the night.

“Fuck.”

She drags her feet on the roughed-up concrete as she follows the ball’s trajectory.

When she had left the Blackburn’s that night, she hadn’t told Martha where she was going. She didn’t need to, really, because Martha knew her better than she knew herself most of the time.

The court was her favourite place this late at night. Devoid of company, an easy place to leave her troubles at the gate and work them away with the rhythm of the game she loves.

Her palm grips the ball and she holds it out in front of her. Her fingers tremble and the ball slips, but she catches it before it can bounce away. The ball twirls on the tip of her finger, then rolls up her arm and around her shoulders.

“Fancy move.”

The ball flips off the end of her hand and Toni clutches her chest at the sudden intrusion.

Shelby is leaning up against the chain-link fence, illuminated only by the flickering yellow of the streetlamps.

“Yeah,” Toni shrugs and sticks her foot out to stop the ball rolling away. “Mr. B always taped the Globetrotters for me, so…lot of late nights watching and practicing.”

“You know, if you’d done pageants,” and Toni can’t help the reflexive grimace that spreads across her lips at Shelby’s words, even if they’re meant to be a joke, “that would have been a _pretty_ cool talent.”

Toni shrugs and tucks the ball under her arm. “What do you want, Shelby?”

It seems to take the other girl off guard, like she hadn’t expected Toni to be so forthright. Toni watches her approach slowly. Every step is careful, like she’s testing the ground to see if it’ll swallow her up or not.

“My parents went back home,” Shelby starts, “and I just…I didn’t want to be alone?”

“So, what, I’m just a body to keep you company until you stop missing your mommy and daddy?” Toni’s words bite, and she knows that they do because she sees Shelby flinch back, wrapping her arms around herself like a shield.

“No,” Shelby shakes her head, “no, that’s not what I meant.”

Toni waits, her lips drawn in a tight line. She waits for the explanation, her fingers tapping against the ball and making quiet, hollow sounds.

“It’s like,” Shelby closes her eyes, “it’s like…I’ve always felt lonely, y’know? Like when I’m in a room, there’s no one there with _me_. But with you, I don’t think I’ve ever felt lonely. And I don’t want to be alone.” She takes a few more steps closer. A pause, a foot from Toni, close enough to see the worried lines in her skin, to hear the nervous breath she takes in.

Close enough for Toni’s every nerve to light.

Shelby shakes her head. “That sounds wrong, still, I know.” Her foot stomps in frustration, and it’s such a childish act in such a tense moment, that Toni lets a chuckle escape her lips. “Are you laughin’ at me right now?”

“Sorry,” Toni says, biting back her smirk, “go on.”

“I guess,” Shelby huffs, and strands of loose hair flutter about her face, “what I’m trying to say is that…you’re the only one I want, Toni. And the only person I think I need.”

Toni knows that’s too much, and she can feel the press of it behind her ribs. The weight of someone relying on her, of Shelby not knowing herself without Toni. She knows Shelby’s side; she remembers everything falling apart like the back window of Regan’s car when one person wasn’t able to be everything for her.

All of that reason, that logic, is eclipsed by the way Shelby strides forward and claims Toni’s lips with her own.

It vanishes in the desperate way they cling together, stumbling until Shelby’s back slams against the fence with a rattle.

All reason, all logic, any semblance of rational thought, it all dissolves with the taste of Shelby’s lips.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Shelby gasps into the night, with Toni’s lips dragging over her neck. “Please, don’t let me be alone.”

_xvii._

The morning comes with strips of sunlight through the window of Shelby’s bedroom. Toni blinks against the light where it paints across her eyes, rolling over with a grunt.

Shelby is lying right there, her lips parted in sleep as she breathes evenly. Her shoulders are bare where they peek out from the top of the blankets, and Toni clenches her fist to keep from reaching out and tracing gentle lines across the ridges of the bones there.

They hadn’t talked last night. Even during the car ride back to Shelby’s place, they hadn’t said a word. And of course, once they were inside the safety of Shelby’s apartment, they had pretty quickly let their bodies do all the communicating. Toni had never seen herself as someone who craved sex, or physical intimacy, more used to being on her own than not, but there was something magnetic about Shelby. Something about the touch of her lips and skin that made Toni’s body thrum with energy.

Plus, it had been over a week. And Toni had spent too many nights lying awake and thinking about Shelby, to _not_ take full advantage of their mutual desperation.

Shelby makes a little noise in her sleep, startling Toni.

“Fuck,” she hisses, rolling onto her back and pressing a hand to her chest. She looks over at Shelby again, and there’s a confusing swirl of emotions that comes to life in her chest. “It’s too fucking early for this.”

As quietly and carefully as possible, Toni slips out from under the covers. Even though it’s well into spring, the morning air is still cool enough on her naked skin to raise it in goosebumps. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tiptoes to the bathroom.

In the mirror, she squints at herself against the bright lights. There’s a messy line of hickeys down her neck and smattered across her chest. Her fingertips trace them, a hot twist in her gut as she remembers Shelby’s lips and teeth pulling at her, pushing right to the edge of pain and pleasure. It had been an unspoken rule to not leave these kinds of marks on each other; neither of them needed to deal with trying to explain away hickeys to their friends.

Clearly, Shelby had decided to throw that rule out the goddamn window.

The shower heats up quickly, and Toni stands under the scalding jets. Her back is stinging, and a quick glance shows the tips of long red lines running down her shoulder blades.

“Jesus,” Toni mumbles, “what does she think I am, a scratching post?”

Toni uses Shelby’s soap, working away any parts of last night that can be washed off. She takes a big helping of Shelby’s fancy shampoo and lathers her hair up, sighing in contentment as the hot water runs down her body. There’s a persisting soreness to her muscles that wasn’t there yesterday.

She wraps herself up in a big fluffy towel and sneaks around Shelby’s room, pulling the drawers open until she finds some (unfortunately purple) sweatpants and a soft-looking white t-shirt. With her hair dripping water down her back, Toni sits next to Shelby and shakes her shoulder.

“Hey, wake up,” Toni says.

Shelby groans and blinks her eyes open. There’s a moment of disorientation, where she’s clearly looking at Toni with a heavy serving of confusion.Then it snaps into place, and Shelby props herself up on her elbows.

Toni holds her gaze resolutely above the slipping line of the blanket.

“What time is it?” Shelby asks. Her voice is hoarse, and it sends a little pulse behind Toni’s navel.

“I’m not sure,” Toni answers with a shrug, “but it’s morning. I took a shower and stuff, I hope that’s cool.”

“Of course,” Shelby mumbles through a yawn, “I’ll get up in a minute and make you some breakfast, just need…a moment.”

“And then we can talk,” Toni says, even though the words fill her with dread. She wants to run away, save herself from the embarrassment of talking about feelings and the inevitable rejection she can pratically taste in the air.

Shelby nods, sitting up. “Yeah, yeah we need to talk.”

“Not that the uh, not-talking wasn’t fun,” Toni starts to say, because there’s a sadness in Shelby’s expression that doesn’t sit right with her, “because it really was.”

“It was,” Shelby says with a smirk. She reaches out her hand and dances her fingers down the side of Toni’s neck. “Sorry, I didn’t realise I was being so…aggressive.”

“All good,” Toni brushes it off, catching Shelby’s fingers with her own and placing her hand down on top of the blankets. “I’ll go make some coffee?”

“Sure.”

Toni putters around the kitchen, grinding Shelby’s pretentious beans and using her pretentious scoop to make her pretentious coffee in her pretentious French press.

It tastes _so_ fucking good.

Shelby comes out a few minutes later in unfairly short pyjama shorts and that irresponsibly cropped pink hoodie. Toni can see the shape of her mouth on the inside of Shelby’s hip bone, printed in purple where the band of her shorts slips down as she reaches up into the cupboard.

“French toast okay?” Shelby asks, already grabbing bread and eggs.

“Yeah.” Toni forces her lips up into a smile.

She likes watching Shelby cook – and not in a weird, ‘woman in the kitchen’ way, but in a, ‘she looks comfortable and at ease and too goddamn beautiful to be real’ kind of way. She moves fluidly, whisking eggs and dipping bread, testing the pan’s heat with a splash of water.

Her hair is piled atop her head in a perfectly mussed way, and Toni has to hold back a snort as she notices the marks on Shelby’s neck.

So, apparently neither one of them had any semblance of control last night.

They eat in silence, punctuated only by the occasional request for syrup or a compliment to Shelby’s cooking.

As Shelby goes to tidy the table, Toni grabs her by the elbow and shakes her head.

“C’mon,” Toni urges gently, “that can wait.” _I can’t_ , is what goes unspoken.

They sit at opposite ends of the couch. Toni tucks her knees up to her chest, watching as Shelby folds her legs underneath her.

“Do you want me to start?” Toni asks. That sense of calm that only comes with Shelby wraps around her. Toni’s never been one to assume the role of the even-keeled one in the room, but something about seeing Shelby so shook, on the brink of crumbling, it smooths away all the rough edges.

Shelby presses her lips together and nods.

“Okay,” Toni takes a deep breath. “I, um, I really like you. Like, way more than I think I should. And it scares me that I can’t tell how you feel. Or, I thought I could tell, but then your parents came and…look. I get it, okay? That you’re struggling. I see you struggle, and it sucks.” She sniffs back the tightness that starts to swell in her chest. “But I can’t keep doing this if it’s going to hurt like this. I can’t be on call for when you want me, discarded when you don’t. I don’t think I deserve a lot in life, but I know I at least deserve to know where I stand with you.”

It’s the most she’s said consecutively without throwing a snarky comment in, in…a long fucking time.

She continues, “I want you to be happy, but I don’t want to be miserable.”

Shelby has been staring at her the whole time she’s been talking, slow tears falling from the corners of her eyes. Her fingers are twisted in the fabric of her sweater, jaw clenched so tight that Toni imagines she can hear the sound of teeth grinding.

“So,” Toni clears her throat, “yeah. That’s me.”

“Thank you,” Shelby mumbles, and Toni watches as she wipes the tears from her cheeks and runs the back of her hand across her nose. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cry. Just, give me a second?” Toni nods, and waits. She waits as Shelby grabs a tissue from the coffee table, blowing her nose and clearing her throat.

“Water?” She asks, offering to get up and grab a glass.

“No,” Shelby shakes her head, “thank you. Okay.” She closes her eyes and takes a slow breath. “I’m so sorry, Toni, for hurting you. I knew I was doing it, and I still did it. And there’s no excusing it, I know that, but I hope you’ll listen and let me explain, and then if you want to never speak to me again, that’s fine.”

“Okay.”

“The way I feel about you is,” and Shelby laughs here, breathless and watery, “huge, I guess? And it’s so easy to get lost in it.” Her fingers seem to flit unknowingly up to her neck, tapping against the darkening marks there. “You’re so wonderful, and I feel so much admiration for how you live. You live for yourself, and that’s amazing. I’ve just never…done that. My whole life, I did what I was told, y’know? What my parents told me, what the bible told me, what friends and teachers told me, that’s who I was. And when I didn’t do that, something terrible always happened, so it felt like I would never be able to get away from that.

“And then I came here, and it took me three years of being away from home to realise what you seemed to know naturally.” Her lips twitch into a little smirk, and her eyes seek out Toni’s. “Who the fuck is watching me?”

Toni smiles at that, and Shelby’s posture relaxes as she leans forward slightly.

“I thought God was,” Shelby says, “and maybe He is. But there’s been no punishment. No signs from above, y’know, that what I’m doing with you, what _you_ make me feel, is bad. And it feels like the worst forced error, letting you slip away.”

“Forced error,” Toni repeats, turning the saying over in her mouth.

“Yeah,” Shelby laughs a little, “like, why the hell would I work so hard to sabotage something so…wondrous?”

“I’m kind of losing the plot here,” Toni admits, because Shelby’s saying a lot, and it’s not straight forward, and Toni still feels the ball of nerves distracting her from focusing fully on the words that flow to her in that pretty accent.

“Right,” and then Shelby is shuffling forward and gently taking Toni’s hand, weaving their fingers together, “sorry. What I’m trying to say is…fuck, Toni, I want you. Like, I want to kiss you, and all that, but I also want to wake up with you. And hold your stupid hand at the stupid mall, and tease you when you burn instant noodles. And I want to be brave enough to follow through.”

Toni knows it’s stupid, but she does it anyways. She leans forward and grabs at the back of Shelby’s neck, pulling her in until they’re kissing. Their lips are syrupy sweet, and the scrape of Shelby’s teeth on her bottom lip sends a tremor through her body.

“I want to believe you so badly,” Toni whispers, and her words fall from her lips unbidden, washing warm over the pink of Shelby’s lips.

“What can I do,” Shelby asks, “to help you believe me?”

_xviii_.

It’s stupid how nervous she feels.

She checks the time again, the clock on the wall ticking away.

“Where the hell _is_ she?” Toni mutters.

 _Maybe she’s not coming_ , a little voice in her head says, _maybe she decided you aren’t worth the effort. You’re not worth it._

The chair scrapes on the kitchen floor as Toni stands. Through the sliding screen door, she can see all the Blackburn’s setting up for dinner. The folding table had been brought out of the basement and draped with the same old yellow-checkered table cloth. Mr. Blackburn was manning the barbecue, Martha and her sisters running around the yard with those damn puppies chasing them. Mrs. Blackburn is on the phone, probably trying to get a hold of Martha’s brother.

Just as Toni’s about to give up and go outside, the doorbell rings.

Even though all five of them are outside, every single dog starts barking.

“I’ll get it!” Toni yells over the din.

Her palms are sweaty as she opens the door, her heart beating a rapid tattoo against her ribs.

“Hi!” Shelby smiles that blinding smile, and Toni feels it warm her from the toes up. Shelby holds up a container. “I made some slaw.”

“Hey, cool,” Toni says, feeling strangely out of breath, “uh, come in. Just leave your shoes on, we’ll head to the backyard.” She steps aside to let Shelby in, pushing the door shut and leaning up against it to try and collect herself.

“You alright?” Shelby asks, and Toni rolls her eyes.

“Yes,” she answers, “I’m fine.”

Shelby hums, disbelief evident in the way she sets the container down on the little console table and stands right in front of Toni. She leans in, a hand pressing into the door next to Toni’s head.

“You look nervous,” she says.

Toni scoffs. “Why would I be nervous?”

“No idea,” Shelby plays along, and Toni jumps a little at the sudden touch of finger tips to her abdomen. “Shouldn’t I be the one who’s nervous? Meetin’ your family _officially_ and all that?”

“Are you?”

Her answer is a deep, probing kiss, Shelby’s tongue pulling whimpers from the back of Toni’s throat. Toni digs her hands into Shelby’s hair, tugging at her head to try and angle for a deeper kiss. Their bodies collide as Shelby falls forward into Toni. Toni feels a bump on the top of her head, and when they pull back, Shelby’s sunglasses have slipped from their perch on top her head, sliding down Toni’s forehead and landing at the tip of Shelby’s nose.

“There’s no reason to be nervous,” Shelby says in a hoarse voice, “right?”

“Nah,” Toni shakes her head.

They trade a few more kisses, the kind that seem to last for hours and seconds, the kinds of kisses that leave knees weak and heads spinning.

Shelby, of course, is the picture-perfect guest. She offers to help cook, set the table – Toni’s surprised she hasn’t just offered to mow the lawn or weed the garden at this rate. Toni can feel Martha’s questioning gaze on her.

 _This is who you invited?_ Her eyes say. Toni shrugs and grabs a beer from the cooler.

Martha corners her there, folding her arms across her chest. She looks like every adult that Toni remembers in her childhood, trying to get Toni to confess to some misdemeanour or another.

“Can I help you?” Toni asks, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a long pull.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” Martha asks in return.

“Uh, I invited Shelby for dinner.”

“ _You_ invited _Shelby_ for dinner,” Martha repeats, and Toni nods, “and that’s just supposed to be totally normal? There’s nothing weird about it?” Martha grabs a can of pop from the cooler, cracking it and taking a sip.

“I mean,” Toni can’t help the smirk, “it seemed only polite, since we’ve been fucking for like, three months.”

Pop goes flying out of Martha’s mouth and nose. Toni bursts out into laughter, clutching her stomach as Martha gasps and hisses against the carbonation. One of the puppies comes running up to her, jumping at her legs and trying to get a taste of the sugary drink.

“Excuse me?” Martha gasps, gently pushing the puppy back to the ground. “You’ve been _sleeping with Shelby_?”

“Yeah,” Toni says, trying to get her laughter under control, “c’mon, you really had no idea?”

“I mean,” and Martha starts waving her hands around, “I had thought _maybe_ you just liked her, or something, but were too embarrassed to admit it, and then…I don’t know, it just seems kind of crazy!”

“It is crazy,” Toni says with a shrug, “like, it’s insane. But it’s true.”

“You _like_ her, don’t you?” Martha pokes Toni in the side.

Toni rolls her eyes and takes another long drink. Across the yard, she catches Shelby’s eye as the blonde helps Mrs. Blackburn carry out a few dishes from the kitchen. Matching grins overwhelm both of their faces.

Clearing her throat, Toni nods. “Yeah, I really do.” She groans tossing her head back. “This is so embarrassing.”

“It really is,” Martha teases, “but I’m happy for you, Toni. And for Shelby. You’re both great.”

Shelby makes her way over to them, and Toni feels a strange relief as she lets her gaze travel up the length of her legs, clad in light denim, to the strip of skin between waist band and shirt hem. For once, she doesn’t have to worry about who could see, who could notice, and it feels like an unbelievable freedom.

“What’s up?” Shelby greets as she comes to a stop in front of them.

“Just filling Marty in,” Toni says, wrapping an arm around Martha’s shoulders and squeezing her to her side, “blowing her fucking mind.”

Shelby laughs and holds her hand out. Toni fulfils the silent request like it’s second nature, handing over her beer.

“This is so weird,” Martha groans, wriggling out of Toni’s grip as Shelby takes a sip. “I’m so happy for you guys, but I feel like the entire earth has just shifted on its axis.”

“I get that,” Shelby says, looking at Toni with a small smile, one meant just for her.

“Oh god,” Martha whines, “I need to go sit down if you’re going to be all… _that_.”

Toni and Shelby laugh as they watch her walk away.

“Poor Martha,” Shelby sighs, but her face betrays any sympathy, “I’m willing to bet you broke the news in the least gentle way.”

“Maybe,” Toni snatches her beer back, “maybe not.”

Shelby rolls her eyes, and steps closer to lean in and dust a kiss on the rise of Toni’s cheek.

The flush that heats her cheeks is so hot that Toni thinks she might pass out.

“You look very pretty today,” Shelby says, and Toni’s feels gratification in the pink of Shelby’s cheeks.

“Uh, thanks,” she mumbles. “You do too. I should have said that earlier.”

“Is Martha looking?” Shelby asks under her breath. Toni tilts her head to peer over Shelby’s shoulder, and she nods.

“Everyone’s trying to pretend they’re not looking.”

“Good,” Shelby says, and she cups Toni’s jaw with warm hands. Lips fit together for a brief moment, soft and somewhere on the border of chaste.

Toni’s eyes flutter open as Shelby leans back. “What was that for?”

“I thought I told you,” Shelby says, furrowing her brow and stroking her thumbs along the bend of Toni’s jaw, “you look pretty.”

It’s the kind of line that Toni would have rolled her eyes at, even a month ago. The kind of thing that’s said in movies, on those dumb teen dramas. Cheesy enough to make you puke.

But, somehow, when Shelby says it…

Well, Toni doesn’t feel anywhere near puking.

It just makes her dangle her beer at her side, her free hand grabbing a fistful of Shelby’s shirt and dragging their lips back together. She tastes a little like the beer, and a little like whatever chapstick she uses. The gentle intake of breath through her nose sends a little jolt to Toni’s gut, and for a moment, she forgets where she is.

She forgets until she’s suddenly soaking wet.

“What the _fuck!_ ” Toni gasps, Shelby shrieking under the cold jet of water. Her hands fall from Toni’s face and grip at her biceps instead, holding them together against the steady stream.

“Dinner’s ready,” Martha calls innocently from where she’s standing with the garden hose in hand.

“I’m going to kick your ass, Martha!” Toni yells, but she makes no attempt to leave Shelby’s arms.

_xix._

“How long are you going for?” Toni asks from where she’s lounging on back on Shelby’s bed.

Shelby is rifling through her closet, picking clothes out and giving them thorough once-overs before putting them in her suitcase or back on the rack. She’s been at it for what feels to Toni like hours.

“I told you,” Shelby says, “just five days.”

“You excited?” The question is more than that, and Toni knows Shelby can tell what she’s really asking by the way her shoulders tense up.

Shelby sighs and holds out a pretty yellow sundress. “Yes or no?”

“It’s yellow,” is all Toni says. Shelby rolls her eyes and stands in front of the mirror, holding the dress up to her body. “Shelby, are we going to talk about it?”

“I’m going to be forced into getting a spray for the party,” Shelby mumbles to herself. It’s an obvious brush off, but Toni is nothing if not tenacious.

“Shelby,” she tries again.

Shelby huffs and puts the dress back in the closet. The exposed skin of her back, bare except for the pink of her sports bra, is delightfully distracting as Shelby reaches up and takes a bin down from the shelf in the closet. Her muscles move fluidly, and Toni grips the blanket beneath her.

It’s a hot day, June closing out with a heatwave. The central air in Shelby’s apartment has been working overtime, but a thin sheen of sweat is still coating both girls. Toni had elected to go loose and breezy, just a loose tank top and shorts. Shelby had gone in the opposite direction, as always, with that horribly distracting pink sports bra and an equally evil pair of jogging shorts.

If her plan was to distract Toni enough to avoid talking about going home to Texas, it was almost working.

“I swear I had something blue,” Shelby says as she digs through the bin.

“Are you going to tell your parents?” Toni asks.

Shelby straightens up, a carefully folded blue dress in her hands. She unfolds it and holds it up, turning to the mirror. “There we go,” she sighs with relief, “that’ll do just fine.”

Toni sits up, dangling her feet off the edge of the bed, toes barely scraping the floor. “You don’t have to tell them anything, you know. I’m not trying to force you to come out to them.”

“I know,” Shelby says, finally acknowledging Toni’s words, “and I do appreciate that.” She folds the dress back up and lays it carefully on top of the ever-growing pile of clothes in her suitcase.

Toni pats the spot beside her, and Shelby perches there. “You looking forward to seeing your brother and sister?”

“Mhm,” Shelby nods, reaching out and fitting her fingers between Toni’s, “it’s been a while. I can’t believe Mel is going to be _fourteen_. It’s crazy, I feel like I’ve been gone forever.”

“Gonna hit up the cheesecake factory?” Toni bumps their shoulders together, a teasing grin on her lips.

Shelby groans, “I let it slip _one time_ that my favourite dessert is from the cheesecake factory, and you still can’t let it go?”

“Uh, I believe what happened was,” Toni taps her chin with her finger, “we were talking about _death row meals_ and you said, and I quote,” she clears her throat and puts on her best imitation of Shelby’s accent, “ _why, I think mine would have to be the dulce de leche cheesecake from the CF_ , _it is simply divine!_ ”

Shelby gasps and shoves Toni back on the bed, pinning her hands above her head as the girl beneath her cackles with mirth. “I do _not_ sound like that!” She exclaims. “Toni Shalifoe, do you think I’m Scarlett O’Hara? _Simply divine_ , I have never said that once in my entire life!” Her legs bracket Toni’s hips and she leans down, pressing a hand to Toni’s mouth to try and stifle her increasing laughter.

“Mmf pfry shh oo doo,” Toni says, garbled from Shelby’s hand on her mouth and the bone shaking laughter. Shelby’s other hand holds Toni’s wrists together on the bedspread, and the faint smell of sweat that drifts and mingles with Shelby’s shampoo, her soap, her skin, it mixes all together with the sparkling green of Shelby’s eyes and the playful set of her brow.

It fans the flames in Toni’s chest, and she tries to pull her hands free so she can pull the other girl in.

“At least I didn’t say a never-ending pasta bowl from Olive Garden,” Shelby teases. Toni rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out, licking the palm of Shelby’s hand. “Ew!” Shelby laughs and pulls her hand back, sitting up and wiping it on the front of Toni’s shirt.

With her hands free, Toni pushes herself up on her elbow and grins. “Works every time. I thought you had siblings?”

Shelby laughs and pushes against Toni’s shoulder until she falls back down. “So does being taller, and stronger.”

“Yeah?” Toni quirks an eyebrow and tilts her chin up. “Prove it.”

“I’m busy trying to pack,” Shelby points out, “you’re being very rude, distracting me like this.”

Toni shrugs and stretches her arms up and back, tucking her hands behind her head. “So then go pack.”

Shelby’s teeth bite into her bottom lip and she tilts her head. “I’m not leaving until tomorrow,” she reasons, “plenty of time left to pack, right?”

“Tons.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” Shelby mumbles, but she still leans down and presses her lips to Toni’s. Hands find hips, and Toni’s shirt slips to one side as Shelby’s hand pushes it aside to find skin. Her fingers tickle the lines of Toni’s ribs, and Toni arches up against her.

Nothing else gets packed.

Eventually, the sun sets and the two girls have showered and set up an elaborate air circulation system with three electric fans. Shelby orders Chinese food and they eat it on her bed, legs tangled together as they trade bites.

Later, as they watch some inconsequential movie and dust each other with hungry lips, Shelby tucks her head against Toni’s neck and says, “I’m terrified of what they’ll do to me.”

Toni stills her hand where it had been woven in Shelby’s hair, scratching lightly at her scalp. “What do you mean?”

“My daddy is really…devout?” The word seems more like a question, and Toni waits quietly for Shelby to continue. “Like, he runs um, well I guess it’s conversion therapy, really, in our house. For members of our church who…stray.”

“Jesus, Shelby,” Toni says through her teeth. Her heart feels hot and cold, and she pulls her hand from Shelby’s hair as she feels her fingers start to tense up in anger. “Did he ever – I mean, did you,” she stops and presses her lips together. “You don’t have to go back there.”

“It’s my home,” Shelby sighs, “and they’re my family. Even if they want to change me, or they think I’m an abomination, they still love me.”

“Do they?”

Toni clamps her teeth together, and curses herself for not being able to just hold her fucking tongue for five seconds.

Shelby pulls back and there’s something fierce in her eyes, lit by the screen of her laptop and the bedside lamp. “There’s no hate in their hearts, Toni, like there’s none in mine. My daddy just wants everyone to be saved, to be accepted into Heaven.”

“Yeah, that’s great and all,” Toni says with biting sarcasm, “but has he considered not trying to change people? Has he considered that it’s none of his fucking business what people want to do with their lives? Maybe we _abominations_ don’t want to spend eternity in heaven with guys like him.”

“You don’t get it,” Shelby’s voice raises in volume, “you can’t understand what this is like, okay? To have faith like mine, like my father’s, and then to become the very thing that is said to be wrong, to know that you’re not going to be in Heaven with God, or your family.”

“Right,” Toni scoffs and scoots back on the bed, pulling her legs away from Shelby and folding her arms across her chest, “because I’m a godless _savage_ , right? Is that what you’re saying? I’m a heathen, a homosexual, anything else you’d like to add to the list of why I’m going to hell?"

“Toni, that’s not what I said,” Shelby says with an indignant gasp, “you’re putting words in my mouth.”

“Am I?” Toni laughs and clenches her jaw, shaking her head. “You know, I knew that dating a white girl would be harder, but I didn’t think you’d actually say something like this.”

“I didn’t say it!” Shelby exclaims, her hand pressing to her heart. “Toni, please, just take it down a notch so we can _talk_ about this.” Her eyes are wide and wet, pleading.

Toni juts her chin out, but says nothing. Her eyes widen to cue Shelby to speak. She holds her anger behind a thin wall, and as soon as she parts her lips, she knows it’s all going to spill out, however misplaced it might be.

“You _know_ I don’t think that,” Shelby says, words firm in a shaky voice, “I don’t think you’re a-a _that_ , or anything like that. I don’t care where you come from -”

“Oh, so my heritage doesn’t mean anything to you?” She knows the words are unfair as she’s saying them, but the taps have been turned on, and Toni doesn’t always know how to turn them off.

“No!” Shelby makes a noise of frustration and grips at her hair. “Jesus, Toni, will you stop being so fucking _stubborn_ for five goddamn seconds?”

Toni finds herself stunned into silence by the sharpness of the words, by the most curses she’s heard Shelby utter in succession in maybe forever.

“You know I care,” Shelby’s voice carries something desperate in it, matching the way she looks at Toni from across the bed, “about you, about where you come from, you _know_ that. Please, stop making me a villain just because my struggles are different than yours.”

It feels like a splash of cold water. Somehow, in her desperate plea for understanding, Shelby has hit the nail on the head. The nail that Toni could feel but was never able to see.

“Fuck,” Toni groans, “that’s it, isn’t it?”

“What?” Shelby’s eyes widen even more, if that’s possible. “What do you mean, _it_?”

“My fucking problem,” Toni laughs, “with everyone, all the time. I’m so busy with my own shit, I don’t think anyone else’s matters. And I make everyone into villains.”

Shelby frowns, the gears in her head almost visibly turning as she tries to follow Toni’s line of thought. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re -”

“I’m sorry,” Toni reaches forward and find Shelby’s hands. Their palms are clammy with sweat, from nerves or maybe just the heat, “that I haven’t tried to understand _you_.” She squeezes Shelby’s fingers in hers.

“Oh,” is all Shelby manages to get out, and then she breaks into sobs. Toni curses and shifts forward, their knees bumping together as she places an awkward hand on Shelby’s back, rubbing small circles as the girl before her cries.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Toni says, “Shelby, I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

“I’m just so,” and she hiccoughs through her choked tears, “ _so_ scared. And grateful, to have you.” She sniffs hard, gulping back air as she struggles to get her sobbing under control. “I don’t want to lose you because of them. Because of _me_.”

Toni bites the inside of her cheek and takes a deep breath. “Hey,” she tries to put a smile into her words, “hey, come here.” She presses at Shelby’s back and they shift around until they’re lying back, Shelby curled into Toni’s side with her tears soaking the material of the t-shirt Toni had borrowed what feels like ages ago, but was only a few hours.

“I’m sorry,” Shelby mumbles through her tears.

“Me too,” Toni replies. “I was just…I think I’m scared, too?” She feels the prickling heat of tears behind her own eyes, but she blinks them back, not sure what they’ll do if both of them are crying. “I think I’m scared that if you go home, you’ll realise that you don’t actually want me. That I don’t…matter, to you. That your family is more important. Or that I’m just a phase, or whatever.”

Shelby lifts her head and stares down at Toni, tear tracks highlighted in the dim lamplight. “You’re not a phase, Toni. I…I care about you.”

Somehow the words they’ve said over and over, _I care about you_ , feel ten times as heavy. It feels like a curtain drawn over something else, and Toni’s mouth feels dry.

“Me too,” is all she manages to get out.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen when I get home,” Shelby mumbles, a hand coming up to trace the lines of Toni’s face, “and I don’t know what will happen when I leave. But I know what I want when I come back.”

“Yeah?” Her heart hammers in her chest, her stomach fills with nervous flutters.

“Yeah,” Shelby nods and leans down, their noses bumping together, “I do.”

It’s a kiss of relief, even if Toni knows there’s so much more to talk about, so much to say and do. Worries pass from lips and are taken by the other, taking burdens and silently saying _let me help you with that_.

They will wake up with puffy, tear-stained eyes, and Toni will kiss Shelby goodbye on the front porch of the Blackburn’s house. Shelby will hold Toni close, their ears pressed together as they embrace, the beating of their hearts like two captives trying to break free. And then Shelby will leave, and Toni will wait.

But for now, they wrap themselves around each other and hold on, as if they’ll never have to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> indeed yes, another chapter has been added! couldn't fit everything I wanted within a reasonable word count haha. 
> 
> the support on this fic has been overwhelming - it's hard to express what it means to me to see your unbelievably kind comments. 
> 
> these girls have a hold on me, and I hope it doesn't let up once I'm done this fic. 
> 
> stay safe, and see you next chapter!


	7. xx - xxiii

_xx._

Toni stares at the image on her phone screen, discomfort starting to boil in her stomach.

It’s Shelby – or, it’s some version of Shelby. It’s some warped, bright-white version of Shelby, with her lips torn into a pageant-perfect smile, her arms wrapped around two equally white-bread teenagers. She’s dressed like everything Toni had imagined her to be before they had gotten to know each other. Her hair is pin-straight, held back from her face under a headband.

_Blessed to be back with my favourite brother and sister! God is great, y’all!_

The caption is almost as sickening as the photo.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?”

Martha’s chin lands on Toni’s shoulder, leaning over the back of the chair that Toni is slouched in. Toni jumps and shuts off her screen, tossing the phone down on the table.

“Nothing,” she mutters. “I thought you were helping your mom with the grocery shopping?”

“Nah,” Martha says, and she ruffles Toni’s hair as she leans back, “thought I’d stick around here and hang out with you.” Her hand darts out and grabs Toni’s phone, holding aloft and out of Toni’s reach as she protests the thievery.

“Give it back, Marty!” Toni calls, standing up and chasing after Martha as she runs upstairs.

“Aw, Toni, are you _pining_ for Shelby?” Martha teases, jumping up on her bed and dodging the desperate dive Toni takes. “She’s only been gone one day, you know that, right?”

“Shut up!” Toni grabs Martha’s arm and drags it down until she can rip the phone from her fingers. Martha is laughing, and she bounces to her knees, and then back onto her pillows. Toni jumps off the bed and sits down with a huff on her mattress. “I was just scrolling, and it _happened_ to pop up.”

“Toni, you know that it’s normal to miss your girlfriend, right?” Martha says, rolling over and propping her chin on her hand. “Although it’s not the best picture of Shelby that I’ve seen.”

“How many fucking pictures of her have you seen?” Toni asks, trying to cast attention off of herself.

Martha sighs and reaches down, waving her fingers until Toni takes her hand with a grumpy exhale. “Why are you so cranky?”

“I’m not five, Marty,” Toni says, “I’m not _cranky_.” Martha just raises an eyebrow, and Toni groans. “Stop it. Don’t give me that look.”

“I’m not giving you a look,” Martha says, the picture of innocence, “I’m just looking at you.”

Toni hums in disbelief. The repetitive motion of Martha’s thumb over the back of her hand is soothing, and she hates that Martha’s tactics work so easily on her, easing words from her chest with gentle eyes.

“It doesn’t even look like her, y’know?”

Martha frowns. “The picture?”

“Yeah,” Toni mumbles, “like, I guess that’s what Texas Shelby looks like. But she doesn’t look like m- uh, the Shelby I know.” She pretends not to notice the smile Martha gives her at the near-slip. “I don’t know. I guess it just feels like I don’t know her as well as I thought I did.”

“Maybe you’re the only one who _really_ knows her,” Martha points out. “I mean, not that this isn’t some part of Shelby, but do you really think she looks happier there?”

Toni glances at her phone, at the plastic smile that doesn’t reach those green eyes. She thinks about how Shelby’s eyes crinkle when she laughs at something stupid Toni says, how they almost sparkle when they pull apart from a kiss.

“Thanks, Marty,” Toni squeezes the fingers between hers and offers up half a smile.

“Anytime,” Martha replies with a squeeze in return, “I know how to get you out of your head.”

 _Thank god for that_ , Toni thinks to herself. “I think I need a distraction. You wanna text those weirdo friends of yours and see if they want to go bowling or something dumb like that?”

“They’re your friends, too, Toni,” Martha chides, but she pulls her phone out of her pocket and starts typing up a message.

“Don’t you dare fucking tell them that.”

_Shelby_

“And thank you, Lord, for bringing Shelby home safe to us,” Dave says, “and for giving us this time to spend with her back in our home. Amen.”

The Goodkind family choruses an ‘amen’ around the table, and they start passing dishes around. Shelby breathes in all the familiar aromas of the staple dishes. Her stomach growls as she piles food onto her plate, teasing her brother with a feinted grab for the bun that’s supposed to be his.

“Hungry, Shelbs?” Dave asks, with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Shelby looks down at her plate.

“Oh,” she laughs and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “yeah, I guess I am. I didn’t eat much before the flight, and you know how that airplane food is.”

“Well,” he quirks the corner of his lips, “I guess I know which of you is coming with me to my morning spin.”

Shelby’s stomach turns over, and she takes a deep breath. Suddenly, the food in front of her doesn’t look so appetizing.

“Save some room for dessert,” Jo Beth says, and her smile is small but kind, and Shelby feels her gratitude for her mom deep in her bones.

“Spencer, how was football camp today?” Dave address Shelby’s brother.

Spencer, once a scrawny little kid, is now a tall and lanky teenager. Shelby had barely believed her eyes the first time she came home and he had hit a growth spurt, stretching him to even height with her. Now, at seventeen, he’s taller by a good handful of inches, and like any good Texan boy, he’s been put into football.

“Coach had us doing wind sprints,” Spencer says, “I nearly threw up by the end of the day.” He laughs and his sister join him.

“Oh, come on now, bud,” Dave says, “can’t have that. You better start coming to spin, work on that cardio, or you won’t make first string come September.”

“Sure, dad,” Spencer says, and Shelby watches him deflate.

She doesn’t know when she started noticing it. Or, maybe she’s always noticed, but refused to see, just how toxic her father’s words are. How deep they cut each member of their family, pushed to perfection by a man who will never see it even if they reach it.

Shelby had almost reached it, she thinks. In her father’s eyes, she had always felt so close to reaching that unknowable goal, like it was just past the ends of her fingertips. It had pushed her to the limits, had consumed her every waking thought for years, aspiring to be what Dave Goodkind wanted her to be.

“That’ll be fun,” Shelby says, catching Spencer’s eye and giving him an encouraging smile, “we can sit in the back and make fun of daddy’s puns together.”

“I’ll come too,” Melody pipes in, her words slightly lisped by the pink braces that adorn her teeth, “I want to see if all that time away has finally slowed you down, Shelby.”

Everyone laughs at that, and it’s like always – the hurtful words and cutting remarks are forgotten and forgiven.

They finish dinner and eat the strawberries and cream that Jo Beth serves up. Shelby helps her mom clean up, and they chat idly about nothing. The familiar timbre and rhythm of her mom’s voice is like a balm. Shelby lets it soak into her skin and her bones.

“Hey, Shelby!” Spencer comes wheeling into the kitchen, socked feet slipping on the tile floor. “Mel wants to play DDR, and you’re the only one old enough to remember how to set it up.”

It’s a good-natured jab, and Shelby checks that her mom doesn’t need any more help before following her brother down to the basement.

It’s easy to set up, and Shelby thinks that her brother and sister would have been perfectly capable without her. She still likes that they wanted her here, and so she makes a big show of telling them where each wire goes.

“I’m really good at this, so watch out,” Melody says.

“You were good when you were _eight_ ,” Spencer points out, “I bet you suck now.”

“I bet you both suck,” Shelby says. “I’ll bet you ten bucks each that I can still crush both of you.”

They accept her terms, and they get to it.

It’s a lot harder than any of them remember. The mats aren’t as responsive as they used to be, forcing them all the adjust for the lag on the fly. Shelby finds herself breaking a sweat after fifteen minutes, and she thinks that maybe it’s not the worst idea to go to that spin class tomorrow.

There’s no clear winner – each of them being absolutely terrible. They collapse onto the couch and spend ten minutes arguing over what movie to watch. Melody claims it’s her birthday week, so she should get to choose. Shelby argues that, really, she should choose because she’s a guest. Spencer starts saying something about the _man_ being the one to choose, but he can’t finish under the barrage of pillows that are thrown and swung at him.

They don’t even bother watching the movie they finally agree on. There’s too much to catch up on; Spencer has apparently been seeing a girl from school, and he can barely get through her name without blushing. Shelby ruffles his hair and teases him with Melody, singing childish songs about kissing in trees.

“Do you have a boyfriend in Minnesota, Shelby?” Melody asks from where she’s leaning up against Shelby’s arm, her head tucked against her shoulder.

“Um,” Shelby feels a jump of fear in her heart, “no, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“I think you should,” Melody says, trying to hide a yawn, “you’re so pretty and nice.”

“Thanks, Mel,” she leans her cheek against the top of her sister’s head, “so are you.”

“If you get one, he’ll have to come and get checked out by me,” Spencer says, his voice cracking on the last word. He’s sitting a foot or so away from his sisters, but Shelby can see him shooting jealous looks at their cuddling.

For a second, Shelby entertains the idea of Toni coming and meeting her brother. She pictures it, Toni facing off against Spencer, laughing when he would try and threaten her.

Something tightens up in her throat. It’s never been easy for Shelby, to hide things from her family, especially from her siblings. Even though there’s an age gap, they’ve always been encouraged to be close and share. Hiding herself never felt this hard, before she knew the joy that being herself could truly bring.

Melody falls asleep against her arm, and Spencer follows soon after, slouching back against the couch cushions. Shelby drapes a blanket over his feet and pulls another her and Melody.

Her phone lights up with a text.

_[Toni]: went bowling with ur friends – theyre all shitty, fun fact_

Shelby purses her lips against the smile the text draws across her face. She can practically hear Toni’s voice wrap around the words, can see the way her eyes would roll.

_[Shelby]: And you’re not?_

Her teeth worry the inside of her bottom lip while she waits for the reply. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and she sends up a quick prayer that Melody won’t notice from where she’s tucked into Shelby’s side. The nerves are intoxicating, even if there’s nothing incriminating being sent. Just the idea that Toni is texting her, that someone could see it and ask who Toni is, that Shelby suddenly isn’t sure what she’d say…

It’s all making her head spin.

The next message is just a picture, and Shelby reflexively turns her phone off so fast it nearly slips out of her hand.

She takes a deep breath, and quickly checks that her siblings are still out. Her thumb hovers over the home button, and on the count of three, she opens up the message again.

It’s Toni.

Obviously.

She’s got a piece of paper held up next to her face. It’s a bowling score card, showing off a perfectly average score. Better than anything Shelby’s ever shown.

Toni’s got her hair loose around her shoulders, that blacklight fluorescent glow of a bowling alley lighting up her face in an otherworldly way. She’s got her tongue sticking out, one eye shut in a goofy grimace. Behind her, Shelby can make out what looks like Fatin bowling with both hands, her legs in a deep squat.

She stares at the picture a moment longer, the nervous churning in her stomach turning slowly to butterflies.

Her thumbs hover over the keyboard, unsure what to say back. Or, she knows exactly what she wants to say, she’s just not sure if she can. Or if she should.

She’s saved from having to wonder, because Spencer lifts his head then.

“What time is it?” He asks, fighting off a yawn.

Shelby shoves her phone into the pocket of her sweater and clears her throat. That nervous thrum is back, and she hopes it can’t be heard in her voice as she answers him.

Together, they wake Melody, all migrating up to their own rooms. They exchange hugs, wishes for good sleeps, and then Shelby is alone in her room.

Her parents had kept her siblings at bay, leaving it untouched since Shelby’s senior year of high school. Trophies and ribbons line the shelves, pictures of Shelby with her high school friends – all people she’s lost touch with, most of them electing to go to college in-state. There are photos from different mission trips, Shelby with her arms around different groups of friends she met over different summers and vowed to always be best friends with after their month together was up.

She stares and struggles to remember their names.

One picture glares back at her, and Shelby swallows back a rise of nausea. Her fingers reach out, shaking, and she picks up the frame. It’s bedazzled in the way you do when you’re thirteen – jewels and sparkles everywhere, big letters proclaiming ‘BFFs’ and ‘4EVER’.

The picture is later, showing Shelby fresh-faced and sixteen, cheek to cheek with Becca Gilroy.

Shelby sits on the edge of her bed, the picture held in her tight grip. She stares and remembers the sound of Becca’s voice, the timbre of her laugh. When she breathes in, she swears she can smell the fruity shampoo Becca would use, always complaining about how annoying curly hair was to maintain.

She doesn’t realise she’s crying until a tear finds its way to her lips.

“Shit,” she mumbles, and the dam breaks a little bit. She doesn’t sob, or fall to her knees and clutch her chest. It’s nothing that dramatic, but it still feels like her chest is being ripped open as she blinks through her tears at the smile of her best friend, forever immortalised behind smudged glass.

On her bedside table, her phone lights up again. She wipes at her eyes and loosens one hand from the frame to pick up her phone.

_[Toni]: i miss u btw  
_ _is that lame?  
_ _fuck, that’s lame. ignore me_

Toni’s three successive messages make a watery laugh bubble up. Shelby opens up the picture Toni sent her and holds it next to the one in her hand.

“I wish you were here,” she whispers. “I wish you were here.”

_[Shelby]: I miss you too. It’s not lame._

She carefully makes room for the picture frame on her bedside table.

_[Toni]: Nah im pretty sure its lame_

Shelby changes into her pyjamas and braids her hair back from her face. She lies under the same duvet she’s had her whole life, surrounded by the innumerable pillows she keeps on her bed. Lying on her side, she stares at the picture of her and Becca, and not for the first time, she prays to be sent back, to go back in time with the courage she has now.

_[Toni]: anyways, ur prob tired. get some sleep, santa watches Christians more than others_

She wonders if Becca would like Toni, and vice versa.

She wonders, if Becca was still here, would she be the one Shelby is texting at midnight? Would they have run away together, somewhere far away from all the expectations?

_[Toni]: oh shit, I forgot to tell you  
_ _i think Fatin knows  
_ _i didn’t say anything, but she kept making really shitty jokes about eating out and you  
_ _you would have hated it  
_ _p funny tho tbh_

Her heart swells at the thought of Toni fending off Fatin’s undoubtedly crude jokes on her own.

Becca smiles at her from the frame, and Shelby takes a slow breath.

No, even if Becca were here, even if she and Shelby had been able to keep growing up together, Shelby knows it wouldn’t have been _that_. It would have been the love of years of friendship, of safety and that only slice of freedom they could ever find in each other.

Shelby knows that, no matter what, as long as she had met Toni, she would never have been able to miss out on her.

She holds her phone up above her face and adjusts the angle of her chin, the soft light of her lamp hiding the tear tracks on her cheeks. The picture is taken and she sends it off.

_[Shelby]: Tell Fatin I say she’s just jealous.  
_ _Four more sleeps, right?_

She stares at the screen, watching the three little dots pop up, then back down. Then back up.

_[Toni]: sap  
_ _but yeah  
_ _only four  
_ _lmk if you need anything  
_ _idk what but like, I can send videos of those stupid puppies or_ _whatever_

Shelby smiles, and sends off one last text.

_[Shelby]: Anyone ever tell you how amazing you are? Because you are. Amazing. Goodnight Toni xx_

_xxi._

Toni’s fingers dig into the sand as she squints out against the sparkling surface of the lake. In the water, Martha and her sisters are splashing each other and squealing. Mrs. Blackburn is sitting a few feet back in a camping chair, her fingers making a needle dance expertly as she beads.

They had decided to beat the heat at the lake, the Blackburn’s house unable to keep itself cool enough against the sticky summer heat. The dogs were tearing through the water as well, chasing each other and the girls around.

“Not going in today?” Mrs. Blackburn asks.

Toni looks over her shoulder and shrugs. “I’m not that hot yet, I guess.” She pushes herself to her feet and flops into the chair beside Mrs. Blackburn. “What are you beading?”

“Earrings for the craft fair,” she answers, holding the piece out for Toni to inspect. It’s beautiful, tiny beads strung together in a cascading pattern.

“It’s gorgeous,” Toni says. “Do you have a table this year?”

Mrs. Blackburn shakes her head. “You know the Songetay’s? Their eldest daughter is setting up a table, and she asked if I would be willing to provide some pieces.”

“Dana?” Toni laughs and digs her toes into the sand. “She always seemed so…I don’t know, uninterested in stuff like that.”

“I guess she found something to spark her interest.”

They fall into a comfortable silence. Toni closes her eyes and tilts her face up to the sky. The sun beats down, and she feels it warm every inch of her skin. A fleeting voice that sounds suspiciously like Shelby whispers something about getting a sports-bra tan.

Toni thinks the voice sounds into the idea.

“So,” Mrs. Blackburn’s voice reaches her ears, “have you talked to Shelby much since she went home?”

Toni straightens up in her seat and cracks her eyes open. “A bit. She’s been pretty busy, I think.”

“She’s a very nice girl,” Mrs. Blackburn comments. “Can’t help but wonder why she hangs around you.”

Toni laughs at the mischievous grin on her face. “Mrs. B, did you just burn me?” The older woman shrugs, not looking up from her beadwork. Toni shakes her head in disbelief, a big smile spreading across her lips. “Damn, Bernice.”

Mrs. Blackburn laughs at that. “I’ve learned a thing or two from the girls. _Roasting_ , right?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Toni groans through her laughter.

One of the dogs comes tearing up to them, stopping just in front of them and shaking the water from his shaggy fur. Toni shouts as the cold spray hits her skin, and Mrs. Blackburn covers her beading and scolds the mutt.

“Those damn dogs,” she sighs as it runs off.

“Can’t believe you let them talk you into keeping those puppies,” Toni points out, wiping water from her face.

“They make them all so happy,” is her answer.

“You’re too nice.” Toni says it without malice. She says it like what it is; some sort of miracle of life, that Mrs. Blackburn exists here beside her, with her open arms and her open heart. A mother to a child that wasn’t hers, a friend to a lost girl who needed one.

Mrs. Blackburn just reaches over and squeezes Toni’s hand briefly before going back to her beading. “You know,” she says, “I never thought _you_ would be the one falling in love outside of our community. You’ve always been so angry at the rest of the world.”

“Yeah,” Toni shrugs and picks at a loose thread on her shorts, “well, I like to be unpredictable.”

“I’m happy for you,” she says, “but I am still a little wary. You know that there are some people around here who won’t like what they see.”

Toni sighs. Not too long ago, she probably would have been one of those people. She remembers, back when she was in high school, a boy a few years older than her had run off with a guy from town, all the way to New York. It had left a bitter taste in her mouth, watching him leave behind his culture and community for a white boy and life in one of the hubs of coloniser culture.

“Honestly, Bernice,” she twists the hem of her shorts in her fingers, “I’m not sure what I’m doing. I just know that I really like her, y’know?”

Mrs. Blackburn smiles at her, a smile that wraps Toni up like a warm blanket on a winter morning. “That’s all that matters, Toni. Your heart can be wiser than your head.” From the water, the Blackburn sisters start calling out to Toni, coaxing her to go and join them. She acquiesces with a sigh.

When they get home that evening, they’re all tired from the sun and the physical activity. Mr. Blackburn orders pizza for dinner when he gets home from work, and they settle in the living room in front of the television. Toni doesn’t pay any attention to whatever animated movie is finally agreed upon, choosing to stare at her phone instead.

Shelby’s been posting regularly to her social media stories. Nearly every picture is of her and her siblings at some sort of activity. Her parents make the occasional appearance, and something about seeing Shelby’s dad makes Toni feel queasy. There’s something unsettling about his eyes; maybe it’s that his smile never seems to reach them, or that Toni remembers the feeling of having those eyes on her as she left Shelby’s apartment.

The most recent post is a selfie of the three siblings, all of their faces covered in some black goo. The caption reads ‘home spa!’, and Toni snorts at the completely unamused look on Shelby’s brother’s face.

Her phone buzzes with a text, nearly giving her a heart attack.

_[Shelby]: What do you think?_

There’s a picture attached to the message under Shelby’s name. Toni’s heart pounds in her chest as she opens it, hoping no one is paying enough attention to her to start teasing her for the flush of her cheeks, or for the dumb smile she can feel trying to take over her lips.

It’s a selfie in front of a mirror. In the background, there’s a bed with way too many pillows on it and a shelf with some shiny, ribboned things lining it. Shelby’s posing in a way that only someone who had practice trying to look perfect can; her skin looks a few shades darker, and Toni has to hold back the snort that threatens to bubble up. Spray tanned, her hair styled into something Toni can only describe as Texan, Shelby looks the very image of what Toni had first judged her as.

Toni zooms in on her face and a short burst of laughter falls from her lips. Martha looks at her with questioning eyes, but Toni waves her off with a, “memes, am I right?”

Shelby’s got her face contorted into a goofy grimace. It sits at a hilarious juxtaposition with everything else in the picture, and Toni has to bite her lip to try and tamp down the stupid ear-to-ear smile on her face.

_[Toni]: very rootin tootin  
_ _party tonight?_

“Are you texting Shelby?” Martha leans over and peers at Toni’s screen.

“Jesus, Marty,” Toni hisses, “a little space?” Martha rolls her eyes and shuffles closer.

“Aw, she looks so pretty!” Martha sighs. “Toni, did you tell her she looks pretty?”

Toni curls away from her friend, trying to hide the phone screen from Martha’s prying eyes. “None of your business!”

 _Shit, should I have said she looks pretty? Who the fuck says rootin tootin?_ Toni curses under her breath and quickly taps out another message.

_[Toni]: like rootin tootin in a hot way_

As soon as she sends it, Toni wishes she could just crawl into a hole and disappear.

Shelby’s reply comes in the form of another picture, and Toni’s cheeks flush with embarrassment when she feels a jolt of heat to her stomach. Shelby’s got a ridiculous cowboy hat on, matching boots on her feet. She’s got the hat tilted down a bit, those perfectly straight teeth flashing out from underneath it in a smile. Toni’s eyes travel up the shape of her legs, and she swallows down the swelling of her heart.

_[Shelby]: How’s this?_

Casting her eyes up to the popcorn ceiling, Toni lets out a slow breath between her teeth. Her fingers hover of the screen of her phone, trying to find a way to articulate without giving away just how stupidly and unfairly turned on that picture has made her.

_[Toni]: yeehaw_

_Shelby_

Melody’s birthday party is in full swing. Her parents had reserved the church annex hall, and hired caterers and party planners to deck it out in streamers and balloons. Loud music plays from the loudspeakers, Melody and her friends all out on the dance floor.

Shelby is sitting at a table by herself, watching everyone partake in the festivities. She used to love these community parties, where everyone came together to celebrate one of their own. She remembers her own fourteenth birthday, how much fun she had had with all her friends. She remembers sneaking off with Andrew and having their first kiss out behind the annex. His hands had been sweaty on her cheeks, his lips had tasted like Doritos.

At the time, she thought she had it all.

Now, she watches everyone laughing and talking, dressed up in their best party clothes. She can see her dad mingling with his most ‘charming minister good guy’ smile plastered on his lips. There’s a twinge in her chest, knowing that even a year ago, she would have been at his side as he schmoozed the members of their congregation.

She lifts the glass of punch to her lips and takes a sip.

“Having fun?”

Shelby looks to her left and sees Spencer taking the seat next to her. “Oh, yeah,” she lies, “just taking a breather.”

“Dad keeps trying to get me to ask Kelly Walton to dance,” Spencer grumbles. “All because she’s been volunteering with the Sunday school kids.”

“Is your girlfriend not here?” Shelby asks, grinning when Spencer drops his head to the table and groans.

“She’s not my _girlfriend_ ,” he mumbles. “And no, she’s not. She’s um, not, like…part of the church.”

“Oh.”

Spencer looks up at her with wide eyes. “You gonna lecture me about it?”

“What?” Shelby’s brow knits together. “Why would I lecture you about that?”

“I dunno,” Spencer says with a shrug, “you’re just, y’know…so perfect. I thought you’d tell me off for dating someone who isn’t one of us.”

The irony twists in Shelby’s gut like a knife. Confessions sits on the tip of her tongue, and she has to take another drink to swallow them back.

“Do you like her?” Shelby asks.

Spencer rolls his eyes, his cheeks a bright pink. “Kinda. Yeah. Ugh, whatever, Shelbs, stop laughin’ at me!”

Shelby bites the inside of her bottom lip, trying to hide her amusement at how easy it is to embarrass a teenage boy. “Sorry, sorry,” she says. “Look, Spence, as long as you like her, it doesn’t matter where she comes from, right?”

“Try telling that to dad,” Spencer sighs. “Besides, it’s not like you have any experience disappointing him. He thinks you shit gold.”

 _Oh, you have no idea_.

“Gross,” Shelby says, trying to laugh through the blanket of fear that settles over her chest. “He won’t be disappointed. He just wants us all to be happy.”

_Or whatever he thinks happy means._

Spencer leaves her there soon after, resigned to his fate of being shown off to all the girls his age like a prize pony. Shelby tries to muster up the energy to mingle, but she can’t seem to find it within her. A few family friends stop by, asking her about school, about life up north. She makes easy small talk until they inevitably leave her alone.

The party goes strong until eleven, when her dad starts shutting things down. There are city bylaws about noise, and his own beliefs that there’s no reason to be up so late even for a party. The Lord created day and night with a purpose, or whatever his saying for this scenario is.

Back at their house, Melody is still wired on sugar and the energy of a party. Claiming the rights of being the birthday girl, she convinces all them to stay up with her. They all collapse onto couches in their party attire, exchanging stories from the night.

“Shelbs, I hardly saw you out there,” Dave points out, “you feelin’ okay?”

“Just tired,” Shelby lies.

“It’s too bad,” he continues, “I know there were a few young men who wanted to talk to you.”

Shelby’s stomach roils. “I’m not really looking to meet anyone, daddy.”

“You remember the Johnson boy, Kyle?” Dave barrels forward. “I heard he’s started his own electrician company, or whatever you call that.”

“Good for him,” Shelby mutters. There’s a storm in her head, that carefully constructed wall starting to wear down against the frustration.

“Dave, I’m sure Shelby is far too busy to bother thinking about dating right now,” Jo Beth chimes in, offering Shelby that sympathetic smile the family always shares when the patriarch sinks his teeth into them.

“I just think she should start thinking about what she’ll do when she comes back home,” Dave says it like it’s obvious, like _of course_ Shelby is coming back to Fort Travis after she’s gotten her degree.

Like she’s got nowhere else to be.

“I don’t know what I’m doing after school,” Shelby says, “I might stay in Minnesota a while. I like it there; I’ve got friends there.”

Dave smiles, and it’s placating and patronizing. “You’ve got friends here, too, sweetheart, and I’m sure they’re all hoping you’ll be back.”

“Do we have to talk about this right now?” Jo Beth says. “Melody, honey, did you enjoy your party?”

Melody goes to answer, but Dave cuts her off. “What’s in Minnesota that would keep you there, away from your home?”

_Freedom._

_Friends._

_Toni._

_Anonymity._

“I just,” Shelby fiddles with the golden cross that hangs against her chest, “I _like_ it there, daddy.”

“All alone?” Dave’s words carry the tone of someone that cares, and Shelby has to remind herself that he _does_ care, even if it’s for all the wrong reasons and in all the ways that hurt the most.

“I’m not alone,” Shelby says, and she’s surprised at the sudden surge of strength in her voice. Her fingers quake with nerves, but there’s a crack in the wall now, and something is going to break through if she’s not careful. “I’ve made really great friends. And there’s,” she looks around at the waiting faces of her family, at the sympathy of her siblings’ eyes, the careful concern of her mother, the calculations in the lines of father’s face, “someone important to me, up there.”

“I _knew_ it,” Melody whispers loudly to Spencer, who offers her a subtle high-five.

“You’ve been someone and you didn’t tell us about him?” Dave asks, like this somehow personally offends him.

“It’s new,” Shelby struggles to find the right words to explain and hide simultaneously, “it’s complicated, I don’t…it’s not…” Her heart is thudding heavy behind her ribs, and it’s more habit than necessity that has her sending up a silent prayer for strength and guidance.

“Don’t tell me you’re dating an atheist,” Dave jokes, but Shelby feels it land flat on her like a stone. “Even United would be better.” He chuckles at his own joke.

Shelby tries to find something to say, some kind of placating lie to make this conversation end before it can really begin, but nothing leaves her lips as she opens them.

“Shelby?”

She looks up and meets his eyes, blinking back the tears that have started welling in her own. “Daddy, please…”

His face falls. “Everyone, out.”

Shelby gasps and buries her face in her hands, and she knows he knows. She feels the soft brush of her mom’s hand over her shoulder as she passes, and Shelby wishes someone would stay and stick up for her.

Dave Goodkind leans forward on his knees and runs a hand down his face. Shelby gasps shuddering, wracking sobs. The last time this happened, she remembers the disappointment, the fear, the disdain that had been cast her way.

She wasn’t strong enough back then, and she doesn’t know if she’s strong enough now.

“I thought we had dealt with this,” Dave says, “you told me that it was a fluke. That you were better.”

“I thought,” Shelby tries to speak, but her voice is trapped in her throat, coming out strangled and shaky, “I thought it was, daddy, I really did. But it’s not, it’s _me_ and I couldn’t…I can’t be someone else, not anymore.”

Dave sighs, and Shelby’s heart aches at the tears she can hear in his breath. “We love you, Shelby. We don’t want to see you go down this road. We don’t want you to be alone.”

It’s the same thing he had said years ago. His greatest fear for her, to be cast out and left alone. Even though it would be his decision to do it.

“I’m happy,” Shelby says, and it feels like the first truthful thing she’s said the whole time she’d been home, “I’m so happy with her, daddy.” She watches as he cringes at that, as he recoils and shakes his head. “It’s like, you know how you told me about love? And I thought I’d never find that, that I would have to settle for someone who was decent, and _fine_. But Toni is…she makes me the happiest I think I’ve ever been.”

Saying her name here, in this space of sacred family ties, feels like the greatest freedom Shelby could have imagined.

“Is that the girl who came by your apartment?”

Shelby nods, surprised that he remembers. “Yes.”

He stands, looking down at her with wet eyes. “It’s selfish, Shelby. What you’re going to put this family through, it’s…I thought you were better than that.” He purses his lips and shakes head. “I don’t know how to help you anymore. I don’t think I _know_ you anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” Shelby pleads, “please, daddy, I’m still me, I haven’t changed!” She stands and reaches for his hand. He pulls it out of reach before she can find it with the tips of her fingers. “Please, look at me. I’m right here, I’m _me_.”

He leaves her in the living room, in her blue dress, tears running down her cheeks as she stares at the empty doorway.

She doesn’t know when she falls to her knees. She doesn’t know when she stops crying, her throat raw, her lips chapped. Somehow, her legs carry her upstairs. Her body takes her through the motions, cleaning the makeup from her face and brushing her teeth, changing into the pyjamas that are carefully folded on top of her pillows.

She lies in the darkness, staring at the faint silhouette of her window behind the curtains. There’s a feeling inside her, something that she thought would be emptiness. It’s not, though. It feels heavy, and complicated. It’s relief, and fear, and happiness, and dread. It’s turbulent like uncertainty, and steady like conviction.

Her lips form the words of prayer. “O God my refuge and strength: in this place of unrelenting light and noise, enfold me in your holy darkness and silence, that I may rest secure under the shadow of your wings.”

 _Amen_.

Her bedroom door creaks open, and a small voice calls out into the darkness. “Shelby?”

Shelby turns over and sits up, wiping at the stray tears that have tainted her skin again. “Mel?”

Melody comes into her room, holding out a glass of water. “Here. I thought you might be thirsty.”

“Thanks,” Shelby sniffles, accepting the water and taking a long drink. Melody climbs onto her bed and sits facing her with her legs crossed.

“Are you okay?”

Shelby can’t help the watery laugh that bubbles to the surface. She puts the glass down on her bedside table and shakes her head. “I will be, I think.” She holds her hand out, and Melody takes it, linking their fingers together. “I’m sorry, Mel, I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Melody assures her, scooting forward and wrapping her arms around Shelby’s neck. “It’s daddy, always pressing and asking when he should just let things go.”

“Yeah,” Shelby sighs, and she sinks into the arms of her little sister. Melody’s hand rubs her back, her cheek warm against Shelby’s ear. “You’re pretty smart for a teenager, you know that?”

“I do,” Melody says, leaning back from the hug, her braces catching a strip of light from the streetlamp outside as she grins. “Can I stay in here with you tonight?”

“Sure,” Shelby says, and she holds back the covers as her sister climbs under them. “You have a fun time at the party?” They settle onto their own pillows, their fingers still connected under the covers.

“I did,” Melody sighs dreamily, “it was perfect.” She rolls over and tucks herself into Shelby’s side. “I’m real glad you came home for it, Shelbs.”

“Me too,” she mumbles. There’s a twist in her heart, as she realises this could be the last time she gets to do this with her baby sister. She doesn’t know what her dad is going to do, what’s going to happen to her when the morning comes and she goes back to Minnesota.

Will it be brushed under the rug? Ignored, even if Shelby doesn’t do anything to hide it anymore?

Will she be cast out of her own family? The power her dad holds is something close to absolute, and Shelby doesn’t think her family would have any means to fight back, even if they wanted to.

“Mel?”

“Yeah?”

Shelby swallows her nerves, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m gay.”

Melody lifts her head, and Shelby turns to meet her eyes in the darkness. Her heart seems to stop beating as she waits, holds her breath.

“Okay,” Melody says.

“Okay?”

“I dunno, are you gonna cut off all your hair and become a vegan or something?” Melody tucks her head back against Shelby’s shoulder. Shelby laughs, and squeezes her close.

“No, I don’t think so,” she says, and relief floods her entire body. The weight of her father’s disappointment feels a little lighter with her sister in her arms. “I was thinking of cutting my hair a bit shorter, though.”

“How short?”

“Shoulder length, maybe?”

Melody hums and yawns. “I think you’d rock it.”

Even though she thought she had cried her entire body dry, Shelby feels her eyes moisten again. She hides it in a kiss to the top of Melody’s head, and a mumbled goodnight.

_xxii_.

Toni sees Shelby’s head through the crowd almost immediately. She wants to wave her arms, or run through the security barriers and jump into Shelby’s arms. She wants to grab her by the collar and drag her lips down to meet her own, to let Shelby back her against a wall and press down against her.

Instead, she just tries to look as cool and unaffected as possible as she waits by the luggage carousel.

“Is that her?” Martha asks, stretching onto her toes to try and see over the heads of the crowd.

Toni shrugs. “I dunno.”

“Oh, sure,” Martha rolls her eyes, “ _now_ you’re being all cool, but last night when you were staring at that cowgirl picture, you were basically drooling. Or crying, it was hard to tell.”

“Shut up,” Toni elbows her in the ribs. “I think she’s over there.”

Martha waves her hands in the air as she spots Shelby, flagging her down. Shelby spots them with a small smile. She looks way too good for someone who just spent two hours on a plane, but Toni can’t complain.

“Hey y’all,” she greets, accepting Martha’s hug. Toni shoves her hands in her pockets, unsure of what to do. Shelby stands in front of her and looks her up and down. “What, too cool to hug me?”

Toni rolls her eyes, letting herself be pulled to Shelby’s chest. Her chin tucks into Shelby’s shoulder, stretching up on her toes to avoid having her face squished.

She smells like airplane and a different body wash, but her hair still smells like that same fancy shampoo.

“Miss me?” Shelby mumbles against her ear, and Toni shrugs as she pulls back. The smile on her face gives her feelings away, she’s sure, but it doesn’t stop her from trying to play it cool.

“Didn’t even notice you were gone,” she lies. Shelby laughs and puts her bags down on the floor. Her hands find hold on Toni’s cheeks, pulling her in until they’re kissing.

Toni’s heart flips with the surprise of it, the first time Shelby’s kissed her anywhere other than the safety of their homes. In this airport, surrounded by people, Shelby kisses her with something akin to desperation. She melts into her, her hands landing on the curve of Shelby’s waist, digging against the fabric of her shirt.

Shelby pulls back, and Toni tries to chase her lips with her eyes closed. The other girl chuckles, throaty and way too sexy for a fucking airport. “How about now?”

“Whatever,” Toni mumbles, but the red of her cheeks is bound to give it all away.

“I’m still not used to this,” Martha pipes up.

Shelby and Toni’s eyes widen, and it’s evident in the eyes opposite hers that both of them had sort of forgotten Martha was there.

“Sorry,” Shelby says, clearing her throat. “Thank you for coming to pick me up, Martha.”

“Hey, it was my idea,” Toni protests, picking up Shelby’s bag and hefting it over her shoulder.

“You can’t drive,” Shelby points out, “so without Martha, you’d be having your great idea all alone in your room.”

“Yeah, Toni,” Martha says, “I’m the hero, here.”

Toni groans and leads the way back to the parking lot. “Do you guys really think I should be driving?”

“She gets really bad road rage,” Martha stage-whispers to Shelby.

Shelby giggles at that, dorky and unfiltered. Toni takes the hit, just happy to hear that laugh.

“How was Texas?” Martha asks.

“Um,” Shelby hesitates, and Toni watches her out of the corner of her eye, trying to read her body language, “it was hot. I forgot how hot it gets.” She meets Toni’s eyes with a clear _we’ll talk later_.

The car ride to Shelby’s apartment is full of easy conversation, Martha asking Shelby all kinds of questions about Texas. From her seat in the back, Toni lets the voices of her two favourite people wash over her like rain.

Martha teases her when she gets out of the car to stay with Shelby, but underneath the jokes Toni knows it’s a sincere happiness for her. Martha, who has seen her at her worst and helped her through an innumerable number of dark nights, knows the authentic happiness that Toni radiates when she’s with Shelby.

Against all the fucking odds in the universe.

_xxiii_.

Shelby’s hair is like silk between her fingers. Toni grips it as Shelby’s mouth works some kind of magic between her legs, her eyes rolling back in her head as she feels the pressure inside her build, and build.

“Fuck, Shelby,” she gasps, “I’m like, really…yeah, there…”

She catches Shelby’s eyes and everything bursts. The arm she throws across her mouth does nothing to help mute the cries that leave her lips. Her hips jerk against Shelby’s mouth, the plane of her tongue an irresistible pressure.

Shelby watches her ride it out, waits until she’s lying still with her chest heaving. Toni shivers as Shelby wipes her mouth against Toni’s thigh with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, I think you missed me,” she says. Toni groans and tugs at her hair until she gets the idea, her tongue sliding against Toni’s in the warmth of her mouth. The taste of herself on Shelby’s tongue, on her lips, sends another flush of heat throughout her body, and Toni moans as their bare skin presses together.

“Maybe,” Toni mumbles between kisses. Shelby smiles, their teeth knocking together as they lose control of the kiss. She rolls off of Toni, lying on her side and dancing her fingers across the expanse of her abdomen. Toni massages at Shelby’s scalp, her hair falling out of the hastily improvised topknot.

“I missed you, too,” Shelby says into the crook of Toni’s neck, her lips brushing across the hollow of her throat.

Toni turns on her side and tucks herself close to Shelby, their noses bumping as they rest their foreheads together. “You ready to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Shelby.” Toni tilts her chin up and steals a lingering kiss from swollen lips.

Shelby sighs and shuts her eyes, her arm draping over Toni’s bare waist. “My dad knows. And my sister, Melody, I told her.”

“Shit,” Toni mutters, “how did it go?”

“Mel was an angel,” Shelby sighs, “my dad…he wouldn’t even _look_ at me the next day. It was like I just didn’t exist. He said I was selfish, for doing this. For not trying to change.”

“Fuckin’ asshole,” Toni growls. The peace that Shelby had just worked into her sours into anger. “Fuck, Shelby, I’m sorry. That’s terrible.”

“It is what it is,” Shelby says, rolling onto her back. “He’s not going to change his mind anytime soon. I just hope…well, I hope he doesn’t keep the rest of my family away from me.”

“What the fuck?” Toni props herself up on her elbow. “He could do that? Doesn’t anyone in your family have a mind of their own?”

Shelby’s eyes narrow, and she withdraws her hands from Toni’s body. “Of course they do, Toni. It’s just not that easy.”

“Well,” Toni huffs, “I’ll go down to Texas myself and knock some fucking sense into them, then.” She takes a measured breath and shakes her head. “Sorry. I know me being angry isn’t helpful, I just…they’re such idiots. If they let you go.”

Green eyes find brown, and Shelby leans up to kiss the corner of Toni’s lips. “Thank you.”

“For real,” Toni continues, the flame lit in her chest, “I don’t get it, y’know? You’re great. Parents suck, but they should recognise when they have it good. Letting you go would just be…crazy. There’s no one like you, Shelby.”

“You already got laid, you can stop flattering me,” Shelby says, her cheeks flushed pretty in pink.

“No, I’m serious,” Toni rolls her eyes, and her heart marches loudly in her chest. With gentle fingers, she tilts Shelby’s head towards her. “I love you, okay?” Blood rushes in her ears, and she feels dizzy as the words sit in between them. “I do, and it’s probably _way_ too fucking soon to say that, but I do. And if your family is going to be shitty, I want you to know that. That I love you. And I’m here for you.”

Shelby surges forward, swallowing her words hungrily. Toni lets herself be pushed back against the mattress and the pillows, soaks in the pressing weight of Shelby’s body on top of hers. A laugh finds its way past her tongue and her lips, and Shelby drinks it in. There’s an electrical charge between their bodies, sparked anew like they hadn’t just spent the last two hours charging and releasing that same energy.

As they break apart for a breath, Shelby strokes her fingers across Toni’s cheekbone. Toni opens her eyes slowly, the nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she meets Shelby’s eyes and waits.

Shelby smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “I love you too, Toni.”

The words fill her up in places she didn’t know were empty. Her heart swells and every breath seems to lift her higher. She feels warm everywhere, and not just from the hot and naked young woman on top of her. It goes past her skin, deep into her being, to the very core of her.

Their smiles clash as they kiss, teeth scraping and knocking together, tongues sloppy with laughter, hands shaking with the adrenaline of being vulnerable.

It feels like the closest thing Toni can imagine to heaven.

_fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all that's left is the epilogue and i'm having feelings about it.
> 
> from the absolute bottom of my heart, thank you all so much. the response to this has been amazing, overwhelming, and i feel so thankful to be part of this fandom with all you lovely kind people. every comment adds like five years onto my life, every kudos clears my skin and waters my crops, just truly makes my life so much better. nothing like validation to get the gears a turnin'
> 
> this show came out and i hardly gave it a second thought, and then i watched it because, yknow, lesbians, and i'm so glad i caved to the wlw hive mind. these characters hold a special place in my heart.
> 
> please feel free to come chat on tumblr, or scream at me/with me. 
> 
> thank you all so much for taking this journey with me. it's been a goddamn ride, and none of us kept our hands and feet inside the vehicle. 
> 
> stay safe, stay healthy, stay amazing

**Author's Note:**

> raise your hand if your every waking thought has also been consumed by this show!
> 
> not sure how long this will be, but i'm estimating about 5 chapters like this. 
> 
> thank you all so much for reading and joining me - can't wait to hyper-fixate with you all!
> 
> (title from "whatever you do" by brandi carlile)


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